A Hogwarts Story:The Sorcerer's Stone
by TornEmotions
Summary: Holly Smith is a young girl when accepted to Hogwarts.  Quickly becoming friends with the famous Harry Potter, she encounters love and accepts a secret.  7 years/books put up as 7 different stories.  See Disclaimers and Explanations for details.Snape/OC.
1. Disclaimers and Explanations

Disclaimers and Explanations

Okay, here goes. My HP fanfic is going to be put up as seven different stories. It's really all one long story, but I'm splitting it up into seven different stories, one for each year (and/or book). Therefore, the first year is put up under the title of A Hogwarts Story: The Sorcerer's Stone, second year (story) as A Hogwarts Story: Chamber of Secrets and on, etc. But read ALL the stories, b/c it's really all one long story. Got it? Good! Now: 1) the second part of the story title(s) are owned by J.K. Rowling. The first part is from the video series of the same name on Youtube, featuring Hermione x Snape. Amazing, by the way! I HIGHLY recommend it! The point is that **none** of the story titles are mine and I hope the author won't mind my using A Hogwarts Story as my title. 2) I know that I've wanted to write fanfic on a fanfic story. I give full permission to anyone reading this to create fanfic on any of the characters or pairings. Also fanart. 3) A **LOT** of the lines in my fanfic are word for word from the books. I **DON'T** own those, so I'm not trying to do anything illegal, got that? Don't send me to jail! Now, onto the story!


	2. It's My Life!

It's My Life

**Hana:** for all intents and purposes, this is the intro. I just wanted to give it a cool name. **Deal**. This chapter title and lyrics from Bon Jovi's song, It's My Life.

"_I just want to live while I'm alive_

_It's My Life!"_

A bedroom.

In a house.

On a street in London.

If one were to look on the street, one would see a five year old girl. She has creamy green eyes, short brown hair and a soft smile. She is going into the house. Let's follow her, shall we?

The girl is carrying a bag of groceries. She opens the front door and walks in, quietly closing the door behind her.

There is a mother and father standing in the kitchen, screaming at each other. They don't notice our young friend. She walks to the kitchen table and unpacks the groceries, putting them away in their proper places. She then goes to her room and locking the door, begins to silently cry.

Looking out at the sky, she thinks.

"It's not fair! Is it too much to ask to have a home or friends? I need a change. It's my life!"


	3. 6 Years Later

6 years later…

Hana: Here we go. 6 years later, and things are about to change! Holly's our friend from the intro, by the way.

Blackie: They're gonna get that. They're not as stupid as you.

Hana: Shut Up! No cat comments! Everyone, enjoy!

"Oi, you!"

Holly looked at her dad, the customary polite smile on her face.

"Yes, Father?"

Her father scowled at her.

"Where is she!"

Holly stifled a grimace. For as long as she could remember, her parents had utterly loathed each other. Why they had ever married was a mystery to her. They certainly loathed her; they never acknowledged her if they could help it. She was 11 now and had learned to cut her own hair, sew, wash, etc. to save money. What money she did need, she simply took from their wallets. They never noticed. They were too busy. For ages, they'd tried to divorce and had finally started to make some progress. Holly had to feel bad for their divorce attorneys.

"Girl!"

"She left early for work."

"Damn bitch!"

Her father left the house, swearing under his breath.

Holly shook her head. She'd learned to take it. Going outside, she headed down the street to her best friend's house.


	4. The Letter

The Letter

Hana: Not a very nice family, are they? Things will get better soon, don't worry.

Blackie: We weren't.

Hana: YOU don't count! You're a cat! Go back to your freakin' litter box! To audience: Don't mind her. Read.

Holly drew near to her friend's house, the Rileys, breaking into a jog. As she did so, Megan Riley came out and called to Holly.

"Hey, Holly!"

"Hello, Meg. You're looking pleased," Holly replied, slowing to a stop right by her friend.

Megan leaned forward, her blue eyes shining.

"Luke kissed me!" she exclaimed, grinning.

"Nice. You want to go to the Grove?"

The Grove was a small used bookstore where Holly and Megan would go to relax and talk privately.

"Sure. Hey, Mom! Can we go to the Grove?"

Megan's mom had come out and was watching the girls. The Rileys were distant relatives of Holly. They had moved to her street when she was six and had become her surrogate family. Mrs. Riley smiled at them.

"Sure."

"Great! Holly can grab her mail on the way there …"

20 minutes later, they were seated on two cozy armchairs at Grove's, with drinks. Holly held the pile of mail in her hand, and started to sort through them.

"Bill … bill … magazine … city letter … ads … bank … ?"

She stopped suddenly. There, at the bottom of the pile, was a dense yellowish envelope addressed to her in forest-green ink. What on earth? Megan looked at her.

"What's up?"

Wordlessly, Holly gave the envelope to Megan, who studied it intently.

Megan turned it over and undid the violet wax seal, a coat of arms with a lion, eagle, badger and snake surrounding the elaborate letter H.

Megan pulled out a letter at Holly's motion.

"Holy shit, Holly!"

"What?"

"Listen to this. Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry! Does this mean you're a witch, Holly?"

"Don't be ridiculous, Meg. Keep going."

"Fine. Headmaster: Albus Dumbledore. Order of Merlin, First Class, Grand Sorcerer, Chief Warlock, Supreme Mugwump – Mugwump? International Confederation of Wizards."

"Guess that's what Mr. Dumbledore belongs to."

"Uh-huh. Then comes the letter.

Dear Miss Smith,

We are pleased to inform you that you have been accepted at Hogwarts School of Witchcraft and Wizardry. Please find enclosed a list of all necessary books and equipment. Term begins on September first. Please be in front of the Barnes and Noble Bookshop on the corner of Widgeon Street in London. You should be there on August 15th at precisely 1:00 pm. You will meet me there to discuss buying your equipment. Please do not discuss your witchcraft with non-magical folks.

Yours Sincerely,

_Minerva McGonagall_

Minerva McGonagall,

Deputy Headmistress.

Does this mean that I can't know about this?" Megan looked hurt.

Holly smiled.

"Don't worry, Meg! I'm sure nobody will mind you knowing. We probably shouldn't tell your mother, though."

"Phew. You want to take a look at the equipment list?"

Holly nodded and pulled out a 2nd piece of paper. Clearing her throat, she read:

Uniforms

First-year students will require:

Three sets of plain work robes (black).

One plain pointed hat (black) for ceremony.

One pair of protective gloves (dragon hide or something similar).

One winter cloak (black, silver fastenings).

Please note that all pupils' clothes should be labeled.

Course Books

All students should have a copy of each of the following:

_The Standard Book of Spells_ (Grade 1)

by Miranda Goshawk

_A History of Magic_ by Bathilda Bagshot

_Magical Theory_ by Adalbert Waffling

_A Beginner's Guide to Transfiguration_ by Emeric Switch

_One Thousand Magical Herbs and Fungi_ by Phyllida Spore

_Magical Drafts and Potions_ by Arsenic Jigger

_Fantastic Beast and Where to Find Them_ by Newt Scamander

Other Equipment:

1 wand

1 cauldron (pewter, standard size 2)

1 set glass or crystal phials

1 telescope

1 set brass scales

Students may also bring an owl OR a cat OR a toad.

Parents are reminded that First Years are not allowed their own broomsticks.

"Ooh, Holly! You should get an owl!"

"I don't know. I'll think about it. I might like a cat. There's nothing to do now, but wait…"


	5. The Lady

The Lady

Hana: It is 4:22 am and I am only up to Chapter 3. God! I hate my life!

Blackie: Shut up and rub my belly. That's what you exist for.

Hana: _Thanks_! *rubs belly while crying*

Holly glanced at her watch. It was 12:53 and she was in front of the Barnes and Noble shop. It happened to be situated next to a tiny, dirty little pub. It was August 15th and Holly was waiting to meet with Ms. McGonagall. She would have preferred for Megan to be with her, but Megan had a dentist appointment and couldn't make it.

Honestly, Holly still wasn't sure whether to believe the letter or not. It could just be a scam. She had decided to wait until 1:05 and then leave.

As she stood there, her eye was caught by a cat staring at her. It was a tabby cat and had square markings around its eyes. It gave a soft mew and trotted into the alley between Starbucks (next to Barnes and Noble) and a clothing store. After a second, its head popped out and a little jerk as if to say, "Well? Hurry up!"

Holly looked at her watch, again. 12:55. Surely, it wouldn't matter if she ducked in for a second, right? She quickly slipped into the alley. She turned to the cat, but it had disappeared. In its place stood a stern-looking woman with graying hair, dressed in an emerald-green cloak. She wore square spectacles on her face. Her hair was in a tight bun.

"Well, _that_ took long enough!"

Holly gaped. The woman frowned.

"Well? You _are_ Holly Smith, right?"

"Um … yes. And you are Ms. McGonagall?"

"_Professor_ McGonagall."

"Right. Sorry. Uh … where's the cat?"

"That was me."

Holly closed her eyes for a second. Opening them, she saw Professor McGonagall still standing there.

"Okay. I'm either dreaming or I've gone insane."

"Don't be ridiculous, Miss Smith."

"Well, what proof do I have that I'm a witch, first off and second, that you can turn into a cat!"

Professor McGonagall sighed and said, "Watch." Holly looked and saw her turn into a cat (again) and turn back into a human. Holly felt her eyes grow huge.

"Ok, I'm a witch. What does that mean?"

McGonagall looked at Holly in silent sympathy. It _would_ be hard for her to take, seeing as she was a Muggle. She smiled mentally at this petite young girl trying to come to grips with what was happening.

"Well, it means you're coming to Hogwarts for starters."

"Right! The list."

Holly pulled it out from her small black purse.

"Yes. I will personally be taking you to buy your equipment in a few minutes."

"How?" "Excuse me?"

"I assume that there's a difference form of currency for the magical world. How am I going to afford to buy all this (indicating the list) stuff?"

"Right. For each year and for all Houses (there are 4) there is a fund to be given to one Muggle student. Although you won't know which House you're in until you arrive at Hogwarts, the general bill is given to the same account. For this year, it was a choice between you and another girl, Hermione Granger. However, Miss Granger's parents have offered to exchange their Muggle money for Wizarding money.'

Holly nodded. "Right. That wouldn't work with me."

McGonagall nodded and led Holly to the dingy little pub she'd noticed earlier. They entered into a dark, shabby room. It was almost deserted, except for a few women and men in a corner, smoking. Holly could have sworn that one had pointed ears and another had a tail. Her thoughts were interrupted as an old man came out from behind the bar. He was bald and looked like a toothless walnut.

"Hello, Minerva. Want anything?"

"No thanks Tom. I'm doing the Muggle Fund."

Tom nodded. "Your name, Miss?"

Holly started slightly, realizing Tom was talking to her.

"Holly. Holly Smith."

"Well, Miss Smith. Welcome to our world."

"Um…thanks." Holly said as she followed McGonagall into a small walled courtyard with a few weeds and a trash can.

McGonagall looked at Holly, whose eyes were still wide with astonishment.

"Watch this closely, Miss Smith. You'll need to do this yourself in coming years."

Holly nodded seriously and watched closely as Professor McGonagall took out a stick of wood.

"Is that a wand? A real wand?"

McGonagall couldn't help smiling.

"Yes, it's a real wand. Now watch."

Holly focused as Professor McGonagall went to the wall above the trash can. She went three bricks up and two bricks across. She then tapped that brick three times. A small hole appeared and grew into an archway that led onto a cobbled street. She hurried after McGonagall who was walking down the street. When Holly reached her, McGonagall said.

"This is Diagon Alley. And that –" she pointed to a snowy white building a bit up the street, "is Gringotts, the Wizarding bank. That is where you'll get your money."

Holly looked at her, while trying not to get distracted by the colorful and interesting shops and signs.

"Right. What's the form of currency here?"

"Well, there are Knuts, Sickles, and Galleons. Knuts are bronze, Sickles silver, and Galleons are gold. There are twenty-nine Knuts to a Sickle and seventeen Sickles to a Galleon. Got that so far?"

Holly nodded, a bit breathlessly.

"29 Knuts to a Sickle and 17 Sickles to a Galleon."

"Right. Another thing, Gringotts is run by goblins."

"Okay."


	6. Love and Loyalty

Love and Loyalty

Blackie: Wake up!

Hana: *mumble* 10 more min…

Blackie: *scratch*

Hana: OW! What the hell! I've been up all night, k? Give me a break! Zzzz….

Blackie: She's out, people. Sorry. And a Mngwa is a mythical cat.

They'd reached the building by now. Holly could see a pair of burnished bronze doors with what must have been a goblin standing beside them.

About Holly's height, the goblin had a clever face with very long fingers and feet. He was dressed in a scarlet and gold uniform and he bowed as they passed through the doors. They came to another pair of doors, silver this time. There was a message engraved on the doors. It read:

_Enter, stranger, but take heed_

_Of what awaits the sin of greed,_

_For those who take, but do not earn,_

_Must pay dearly in their turn._

_So if you seek beneath our floors_

_A treasure that was never yours,_

_Thief, you have been warned, beware_

_Of finding more than treasure there._

"Such as dragons," McGonagall said softly as another pair of goblins bowed them through.

Holly looked at her.

"Dragons?" "Dragons."

Holly gazed around the vast marble hall they stood in.

It was like a normal bank, but there were no computers. Instead, everything was by hand. Goblins were writing in ledgers, counting coins and weighing gems on scales. The architecture was a lot nicer as well.

McGonagall walked over to one goblin who was free.

"Hello, Griphook. This is Miss Smith, one of the Muggle Fund receivers."

"Ah, yes. All the others have been here by now."

Holly gazed up at McGonagall nervously.

"You'll come with me?"

"Yes, just this time."

Griphook led them through a door in the hall. Holly found that they were in a narrow stone passageway lit with flaming torches. It sloped steeply downward and there were small railway tracks on the floor. A small cart was sitting on the track and they all climbed in.

As they hurtled down the track, Holly tried to see as much as possible. They passed a passageway that glittered like gold and another covered in what looked like green vines dripping blood. They passed an underground lake where strange purple tentacles kept popping out and in and a small garden of black roses that smelled like perfume.

Finally they arrived at a small door in the passage wall and they got out. Griphook unlocked the door and Holly went in to see tons of gold and silver.

As Holly stared, McGonagall piled some gold and silver into Holly's black purse.

That'll be enough."

After they got back out of Gringotts, McGonagall led Holly first over to a shop called Madame Malkin's Robes for All Occasions. There, Holly got measured and bought her uniform. McGonagall informed Holly that she would get a school tie with her house colors and a day to day uniform when she was sorted.

For the rest of the time, they went around buying the stuff on the list as well as what they would need, such as parchment, ink, quills, etc. Holly decided to buy a binder and bag with Megan at a store back in the Muggle world. The cauldron was collapsible and a lot lighter than expected which was a relief. They stopped and bought ice-cream. Well, Holly did and ate it as McGonagall checked the list.

"All that's left is a wand and an animal."

Holly turned to McGonagall.

"I can get an animal?"

"Yes. The fund allows for that. If I may make a suggestion, get an owl. It will carry your mail for you."

"Ok."

A few minutes later, Holly had a beautiful brown owl with amber eyes in a cage. She asked McGonagall.

"May I get my wand now, Professor?"

"Of course."

McGonagall guided Holly to a shop that was advertised in peeling gold letters as:

Ollivanders: Makers of Fine Wands since 382 B.C.

In the shop window was a single wand that lay on a somewhat faded purple pillow. As they went in, a bell dinged and a soft voice said "Hello."

Holly jumped slightly. Coming out of the darkness was a pale man with silvery eyes that didn't seem to blink.

"Hello Minerva. 12 inches, ash with a mngwa hair."

McGonagall smiled and held up her wand.

"Yes, Ollivander. But today it's Holly Smith here who needs a wand."

Mr. Ollivander cocked his head and said to Holly.

"New student?" "Yes, sir."

"Very well. Which is your wand arm?" he said, pulling out a long tape measure with silver markings.

"Well, I'm a rightie."

"Hold out your arm."

Holly did so and watched the tape-measure measure her different parts by itself, hovering in the air. McGonagall watched, sitting in a rickety chair by the wall. Mr. Ollivander, meanwhile, was rummaging among the boxes of wands while talking to Holly.

"What you must understand Miss Smith, is that the wand chooses the wizard or witch. We will have a wand for you, not to worry. Also, every Ollivander wand contains a core of a powerful magical substance, such as a phoenix feather. No two Ollivander wands are the same, either."

By this time, he had come back out with a few boxes and the tape-measure had settled itself on the desk.

"Try this one. Beechwood and elvish hair. Give it a wave."

Holly took it and waved it, but it was taken back.

"No, no. Try redwood and phoenix feather. No? Here – maple and dragon heartstring. Not that either? Hmmm… ah! Miss Smith, what character attribute do you admire the most?"

Holly looked startled, then thoughtful.

"Love, I suppose or more loyalty."

"Love and Loyalty … Here, try this. Its ebony and unicorn hair, 8 and ½ inches, solid yet bendy, with a shard of purple crystal in its center. Go on, wave it!"

Holly took the wand and suddenly felt a new energy and happiness. As she waved the wand, golden stars floated out and hovered near the ceiling. Mr. Ollivander clapped his hands.

"That's the one! I just needed to know what you admired. Miss Smith, I shall be interested to see how progress at Hogwarts. Good day."

As Holly left with McGonagall, she felt excited. She gave a nod to Tom when they passed through the Leaky Cauldron.

When they came out, Professor McGonagall handed her an envelope.

"In here is your ticket. Platform 9 and ¾. To get there, you must go into the barrier between Platform 9 and Platform 10. It is at King's Cross Station. I must go now. I will see you on September 1st, Miss Smith."

With that, the cat gave Holly a nod and ran off. Holly stood there with her bags for a moment and then started walking home, smiling all the way.


	7. The Hogwarts Express

Hogwarts Express

Hana: mmm… good morning! I feel so refreshed. What time is it?

Blackie: 11:30 am, lazybones.

Hana: I'm NOT lazy! I just needed those 5 hours of sleep.

Blackie: Lazy.

Hana: Shut up! You have no right to talk when you laze around in the sun.

Blackie: That's my rest time. Now let these people read the story.

Hana: Fine. *sulks*

It was September 1st.

Holly was both excited and nervous as she walked through King's Cross Station with Megan. Megan's mother had said goodbye earlier as she had to go to work. Megan and Holly had told her that Holly was going to a private boarding school.

Holly had described her trip into Diagon Alley to Megan and they had pored over her stuff together. They had made sleepovers where they read to each other from her school books and Holly drew pictures of what Diagon Alley looked like for Megan.

Holly and Megan walked together through the barrier and gasped in unison.

A scarlet steam engine was waiting next to a platform packed with people. A sign overhead said: Hogwarts Express, eleven o'clock. Smoke from the engine drifted over the heads of the chattering crowd, while cats of every colour wound here and there between their legs. Owls hooted to one another in a disgruntled sort of way over the babble and the scraping of heavy trunks.

Megan and Holly looked at each other.

"Wow, Holly …." "I know! C'mon, you can come on the train and help me find an empty compartment."

They pushed through the crowd until they found an empty compartment around the middle of the train. Sweating and panting, they were lifting Holly's trunk when a boy appeared. He was pretty cute, with chestnut skin and black dreadlocks. He smiled at them.

"Need any help?"

"Yes, please!" Holly and Megan gasped in unison.

The boy chuckled and helped hoist the trunk up, then followed them into the compartment and helped store it away. He shook his dreadlocks out of his face and shook their hands.

"Hi. I'm Lee Jordan."

"I'm Megan Riley and this is Holly Smith. Thanks for the help."

"You're welcome. First-years?"

Holly spoke up. "I am."

Lee looked at Megan. "Not you?"

"I'm a Muggle, so nope!" Megan grinned ruefully.

Lee looked thoughtful.

"Well, you must have at least a little bit of magic to be able to come onto Platform 9 and ¾."

He turned to the window. Two teenage boys with red hair were calling his name.

"I've got to go, but I'll visit you later on the train ride, Holly. Hope you get sorted into Gryffindor! Megan, delighted to meet you. Write me."

He winked and disappeared.

Holly smiled at Megan's raised eyebrows.

"Hmmm, Megan …." "Shut up, Holly!"

They went back onto the platform.

Holly looked at Megan and suddenly felt tears sting her eyes.

Megan's smile was wobbly as she hugged Holly.

"Have a good time. Make sure to write."

"I will. And I'll write how you can write to me. Don't mess too much with Luke."

"And you go and get a boy. Maybe Lee …."

Holly laughed unsteadily and got back on the train, pulling up the window to talk as the last few passengers hurried aboard.

"Right. I'll …. I'll miss you Meg."

"Me too. Take care."

The train was pulling further away. Holly and Megan, both crying now, waved at each other.

"I love you Holly!" "I love you too Meg!"

And then suddenly, Meg was gone.

Holly closed the window and sat down, trying to wipe her tears away. It was silly to cry….

Suddenly, the door opened and Lee appeared with the two red-haired boys they'd seen earlier.

"Hey Holly, do you mind if – what's wrong?"

She shook her head and smiled at Lee.

"Nothing. Just left-over from saying good-bye to Megan."

Lee nodded understandingly and sat down.

"Well, I wanted to know if we could sit here, since our trunks our stored here."

Holly nodded. "Sure. I'm Holly Smith."

One twin smiled. He was slightly bonier than his twin.

"I'm Fred Weasley and this is George. Nice to meet ya! Has Lee shown you yet?"

Holly frowned. "What?"

George spoke up with a grin. He had thicker eyebrows than Fred.

"Lee's got a giant tarantula."

Holly looked at Lee.

"Really? Can I … can I see?"

"Well if you want to …."

He opened his box and a giant black spider crawled out onto Holly's lap. She grew a bit pale and bit her lip, but didn't move.

Looking at her admiringly, George scooped the tarantula back into the box.

"You're pretty brave." "Thank you."

Time seemed to fly by.

Holly just watched as Lee and the twins chatted. Kids popped in and out and she bought a chocolate frog (not real) from the snack-lady. In it was a card.

The boys explained that they were like trading cards. You collected the cards, maybe traded them with your friends to expand your collection. Instead of baseball or Pokemon, these cards were of famous witches and wizards. Holly got a bit distracted though, by Daisy Dodderidge (the witch on her card) walking out of the frame.

"Hey, she's gone."

Fred shrugged. "You can't expect her to hang around, can you. Pass me a treacle tart."

Holly passed it.

"Well, the thing is that in the Muggle world, pictures don't move at all."

George looked at her. "Really? Crikey, that's weird!"

Their door opened. A round boy with brown hair and a tearful face came in.

"Have you guys seen a toad? Mine got away!"

Holly smiled at him. "I'm Holly Smith. No, we haven't seen your toad, but if we do, I'll tell you –?"

"Neville. *sniff* Neville Longbottom."

"Neville." "Well, if you do see Trevors, catch him please!"

He left.

Lee snorted. "That's Neville Longbottom? Not exactly up to family standard …."

Holly didn't have time to ask him what he meant. The door opened and a girl with bushy brown hair and rather large front teeth appeared.

"Has anyone seen a toad? Neville's lost one."

"We just," Fred drawled, "told Neville we hadn't."

The girl sniffed.

"I'm Hermione Granger. You?"

"Lee Jordan."

"Fred Weasley."

"George Weasley."

"Holly Smith," Holly said, looking at Hermione curiously. So this was the other choice for the Muggle Fund. Hermione seemed to recognize her name, too.

"Oh, you're the girl who got the fund."

"Uh-huh. It's nice to meet you."

"You too. Well, I've got to go. See ya!"

She left.

Holly smiled to herself as Lee and the twins started to complain about how bossy Hermione was.


	8. Holly Meets Harry

Holly Meets Harry

Hana: Yay! Holly and Harry are going to meet. Finally! (does a little dance)

Blackie: Be quiet, I'm busy.

Hana: Hey! You're not allowed to eat plastic. Stop that! (picks Blackie up and deposits her on the floor. Blackie stalks off with an affronted look.)

Some time later, the sun having already set, they arrived.

Holly, already changed into her robes, followed Lee and the twins onto the platform. Lee smiled at her.

"Just follow Hagrid, you'll be fine."

She nodded her thanks and made her way to Hagrid, a giant of a man with beetle-black eyes and a bushy black beard. He was holding a lantern and calling out "Firs' years! Firs' years over here! All right there, Harry?"

As Holly joined the other first years, she saw Neville and Hermione. She also noticed a boy with bright red hair who _had_ to be Weasley. The Weasley boy was standing next to the boy Hagrid had addressed.

Holly observed that the boy was almost _too_ skinny and his black-framed glasses were taped together. The boy, Harry, had untidy black hair and emerald-green eyes. Holly thought she saw a scar in the shape of a lightning bolt underneath his bangs. If so, he was probably Harry Potter. She'd read about him in her books. Still, Holly figured he probably just wanted to be treated like anyone else, so that's what she would do.

Slipping and stumbling, they all followed Hagrid down a steep, narrow path. It was so dark on either side of them that Holly inferred there must be thick trees around them. Nobody spoke much. Neville sniffed once or twice.

"Ye'll get yer firs' sight o' Hogwarts in a sec," Hagrid called over his shoulder, "Jus' round this bend here."

There was a loud "Oooooh!"

"Beautiful," Holly murmured.

The narrow path had opened suddenly onto the edge of a great, black lake. Perched atop a high mountain on the other side, its windows sparkling in the starry sky, was a vast castle with many turrets and towers.

"No more'n five to a boat!" Hagrid called, pointing to a fleet of little boats sitting in the water by the shore.

Holly made her way over to a boat. Hermione, Neville, Harry and the Weasley boy were all in already.

She smiled at them, a bit shyly.

"I'm Holly Smith. May I be the 5th person in this boat?"

"Sure," Harry said.

Holly got in. As all the other first years were finding boats, she said.

"I know Hermione and Neville already, but I don't believe I've been introduced to you two."

The red-haired boy smiled. "I'm Ron Weasley."

"I'm Harry Potter," Harry said, anticipating the usual glance at his forehead. He was relieved when Holly just nodded.

"Got it. Nice to meet you, Harry, Ron."

"Everyone in?" shouted Hagrid, who had a boat to himself. "Right then – FORWARD!"

And the fleet of little boats moved off all at once, gliding across the lake, which was as smooth as glass. Everyone was silent, staring up at the great castle overhead, Holly included. It towered over them as they sailed nearer and nearer to the cliff on which it stood.

"Heads down!" yelled Hagrid as the first boats reached the cliff; they all bent their heads except Holly, who was so small she didn't need to. The boats carried them through a curtain of ivy that hid a wide opening in the cliff face. They were carried along a dark tunnel, which seemed to be taking them right underneath the castle, until they reached a type of underground harbor. There they all got out onto a beach of rocks and pebbles.

"Oy, you there! Is this your toad?" called Hagrid, who was checking the boats as people climbed out of them.

"Trevor!" cried Neville blissfully, holding out his hands. Holly helped him take Trevor from Hagrid and Neville muttered "Thanks" giving her a small smile.

"No problem."

They all clambered up a passageway in the rock after Hagrid's lamp, coming out at last onto smooth, damp grass right in the shadow of the castle.

They walked up a flight of stone steps and crowded around the huge oak front door.

"Everyone here? You there, still got yer toad?"

Hagrid raised a gigantic fist and knocked on the door 3 times.


	9. Welcome to Hogwarts!

Welcome to Hogwarts!

Hana: Why am I doing this now? I'm soooo hungry! *stomach growls*

Blackie: You have to feed me first, you know. It's the law!

Hana: Fine. I'll eat you! (chases Blackie around the house with a maniacal gleam)

The door swung open at once. Holly smiled to see Professor McGonagall standing there, looking exactly as she had last time Holly had seen her.

"The firs' years, Professor McGonagall," said Hagrid.

"Thank you, Hagrid. I will take them from here."

She pulled the door open. The entrance hall was huge, with torches to light the way in brackets on the walls. A magnificent marble staircase facing them led to the upper floors.

They followed Professor McGonagall across the flagged stone floor. Holly could hear the drone of hundreds of voices from a doorway to the right – the rest of the school must already be here – but Professor McGonagall showed the first-years into a small, empty chamber off the hall. They crowded in, standing rather closer than they would usually have done. Holly found herself next to Hermione and Neville, slightly behind Harry and Ron.

"Welcome to Hogwarts," said Professor McGonagall. "The state-of-term banquet will begin shortly, but before you take your seats in the Great Hall, you will be sorted into your houses. The Sorting is a very important ceremony because, while you are here, your house will be something like your family within Hogwarts. You will have classes with the rest of your house, sleep in your house dormitory, and spend free time in your house common room."

Holly hoped she'd get sorted into Lee Jordan's house, Gryffindor. He was sure to be able to help her get used to Hogwarts. Professor McGonagall continued.

"The four houses are called Gryffindor, Hufflepuff, Ravenclaw, and Slytherin. Each house has its own noble history and each has produced outstanding witches and wizards. While you are at Hogwarts, your triumphs will earn your house points, while any rule-breaking will lose house-points. At the end of the year, the house with the most points is awarded the house cup, a great honor. I hope each of you will be a credit to whichever house becomes yours."

"Well," thought Holly, "that shouldn't be too hard. Even if there's a lot of homework, I like learning, so that's ok." She kept her attention on Professor McGonagall, who was still talking.

"The Sorting Ceremony will take place in a few minutes in front of the rest of the school. I suggest you all smarten yourselves up as much as you can while you are waiting."

Her eyes lingered for a moment on Neville's cloak, which was fastened under his left ear, and Ron's smudged nose. Harry nervously tried to flatten his hair, which she saw (of course). She smiled to herself when she saw Holly and Hermione standing together. Holly was the smallest of all the first-years, yet McGonagall couldn't help thinking that she looked the most mature.

"I shall return when we are ready for you," Professor McGonagall said. "Please wait quietly."

She left the chamber. Holly bit her lip and smiled as she turned to listen to Hermione, who was whispering to her _very_ quickly about all the spells she'd learned and what spells she might need to use. No one else was talking very much. Holly heard Harry ask Ron.

"How exactly do they sort us into houses?"

"Some sort of test, I think," Ron answered. "Fred said it hurts a lot, but I think he was joking."

Holly's mind flashed to the tall, lanky boy with the drawl and mischievous grin. "He probably was," she thought dryly.

She flashed a sympathetic smile at Harry, who looked terrified, trying not to show how nervous she was at the idea of a test.

Suddenly, several people screamed.

Holly gasped in wonder. About twenty ghosts had just streamed through the back wall. Pearly-white and slightly transparent, they glided across the room talking to one another and hardly glancing at the first years. They seemed to be arguing. What looked like a fat little monk was saying: "Forgive and forget, I say, we ought to give him a second chance –"

"My dear Friar, haven't we given Peeves all the chances he deserves? He gives us all a bad name and you know, he's not really even a ghost – I say, what are you all doing here?"

A ghost wearing a ruff and tights had suddenly noticed the first years.

No one answered.

"New students!" said the Fat Friar, smiling around at them. "About to be sorted, I suppose?"

Holly nodded silently with a few others.

"Hope to see you in Hufflepuff!" said the Friar genially. "My old house, you know."

"Move along now," said a sharp voice. "The Sorting Ceremony is about to start."

Professor McGonagall had returned. One by one, the ghosts floated away through the opposite wall.

"Now, form a line of three people to a row," Professor McGonagall told the first years, "and follow me."

Holly swallowed and got into line next to Hermione and Neville. In the row ahead of them, Harry and Ron stood next to a boy with sandy hair.

Silently, they walked out of the chamber, back across the hall, and through a pair of double doors into the Great Hall.

It was awe-inspiring. The Great Hall was lit by thousands and thousands of candles that were floating in midair over four long tables, where the rest of the students were sitting. These tables were laid with glittering golden plates and goblets. At the top of the hall was another long table where the teachers were sitting. Professor McGonagall led the first years up here so that they came to a halt facing the other students, with the teachers off to one side. The hundreds of faces staring at them looked like pale lanterns in the flickering candlelight. Holly caught Lee's gaze. He gave her a wink and Holly smiled. Dotted here and there among the students, the ghosts shone misty-silver. Holly saw Harry glance up and followed his gaze. The ceiling looked like the night sky, velvety-black and speckled with stars. Hermione leaned in and whispered to Holly.

"It's bewitched to look like the sky outside. I read about it in Hogwarts, A History."

Holly found it hard to believe there was a ceiling at all. She looked on as Professor McGonagall silently placed a four-legged stool in front of the first years. On top of the stool, she put a pointed wizard's hat, which was frayed, patched and dirty.

_What on earth?_ Holly glanced around. As she did so, she accidentally locked eyes with a teacher who had a hooked nose, wavy shoulder-length black hair and extremely pale skin.

Holly's eyes snapped back to the stool. She felt breathless, as though she'd been punched. The look in the teacher's black eyes had been bored and a bit jaded. "However," Holly thought, "He's sad. His soul is lonely."

Just then a rip near the hat's brim opened like a mouth – and then the hat began to sing:

"_Oh, you may not think I'm pretty,_

_But don't judge on what you see,_

_I'll eat myself if you can find_

_A smarter hat than me._

_You can keep your bowlers black,_

_Your top hats sleek and tall,_

_For I'm the Hogwarts Sorting Hat_

_And I can cap them all._

_There's nothing hidden in your head_

_The Sorting Hat can't see,_

_So try me on and I will tell you_

_Where you ought to be._

_You might belong in Gryffindor,_

_Where dwell the brave at heart,_

_Their daring, nerve and chivalry_

_Set Gryffindors apart;_

_You might belong in Hufflepuff_

_Where they are just and loyal,_

_Those patient Hufflepuffs are true_

_And unafraid of toil;_

_Or get in wise old Ravenclaw,_

_If you've a ready mind,_

_Where those of wit and learning,_

_Will always find their kind;_

_Or perhaps in Slytherin_

_You'll make your real friends,_

_These cunning folk use any means_

_To achieve their ends._

_So put me on! Don't be afraid!_

_And don't get in a flap!_

_You're in safe hands (though I have none)_

_For I'm a Thinking Cap!"_

The whole hall burst into applause as the hat finished its song. It bowed to each of the four tables and then became still again.

"So we've just got to try on the hat!" Holly heard Ron whisper to Harry. "I'll kill Fred, he was going on about wrestling a troll."

Holly smiled wryly to herself. That certainly sounded like Fred from what she knew of him.

Professor McGonagall now stepped forward holding a long roll of parchment. "When I call your name, you will put on the hat and sit on the stool to be sorted," she said. "Abbott, Hannah!"

A pink-face girl with blonde pigtails stumbled out of line, put on the hat, which fell down right over her eyes, and sat down. A moment's pause –

"HUFFLEPUFF!" shouted the hat.

The table on the right cheered and clapped as Hannah went to sit at the Hufflepuff table. Holly noticed the ghost of the Fat Friar waving merrily at Hannah.

"Bones, Susan!"

"HUFFLEPUFF!" shouted the hat again, and Susan scuttled off to sit with Hannah.

"Boot, Terry!"

"RAVENCLAW!"

The table second from the left clapped this time; several Ravenclaws stood up to shake hands with Terry as he joined them.

"Brocklehurst, Mandy" went to Ravenclaw too, but "Brown, Lavender" became the first new Gryffindor, and the table on the far right exploded with cheers; Holly could see Fred, George, and Lee catcalling.

"Bulstrode, Millicent" then became a Slytherin and the table on the far left cheered this time.

"Finch-Fletchley, Justin!"

"HUFFLEPUFF!"

Holly noticed that some people were sorted right away, while others had to wait for a while. "Finnigan, Seamus," the sandy-haired boy next to Harry waited a whole minute before becoming a Gryffindor.

"Granger, Hermione!"

Hermione almost ran to the stool and jammed the hat eagerly on her head.

"GRYFFINDOR!" shouted the hat. Ron groaned. Holly felt a silent pang of sympathy for him.

When it was Neville's turn, he fell over on the way to the stool. The hat took a long time to decide with Neville. The hat took a long time to decide with Neville. When it finally shouted "GRYFFINDOR," Neville ran off still wearing it, and had to jog back amid gales of laughter to give it to "MacDougal, Morag."

"Malfoy, Draco!"

A pale boy with sleek icy-blond hair slipped past Holly with a disdainful look. The hat barely touched his head when it screamed, "SLYTHERIN!"

Malfoy went to join two human-gorillas, looking pleased.

The list was dwindling.

"Moon" …, "Nott" …, "Parkinson" …, then a pair of twin girls, "Patil" and "Patil" …, then "Perks, Sally-Anne" …, and then it was Harry's turn.

"Potter, Harry!"

As Harry stepped forward, whispers suddenly broke out like little hissing fires all over the hall.

"Potter, did she say?"

"_The_ Harry Potter?"

Holly felt pity for Harry. Bad enough to be sorted, but also to be so famous ….

The hat spoke up.

"GRYFFINDOR!"

Harry took off the hat and walked shakily toward the Gryffindor table. Holly saw that he was getting the loudest cheer yet. A Weasley she hadn't met yet stood up to shake Harry's hand, while Fred and George yelled, "We got Potter! We got Potter!" Harry sat down and suddenly – it was Holly's turn.

"Smith, Holly!"

Holly slipped past Ron and walked to the stool. Sitting on the stool, she put on the hat, which slipped down past her nose. Looking at the inside of the hat, she tried to breathe and waited.

"Hmm," said a small voice in her ear. "Interesting. You possess all the qualities of Hufflepuff quite strongly. Yet, I'm not sure if I should place you there."

Holly wondered if she could think-talk to the hat.

"Yes, you can." the small voice replied.

"Ok," Holly thought. "Then, Mr. Hat, it's entirely up to you. I just want to be put where my abilities will be put to the greatest use."

"Ah. If that's the case, then it will have to be GRYFFINDOR!"

The last word was said aloud to the whole hall. Holly took off the hat and walked toward where Harry was sitting. Lee called to her, "Holly, come sit by us." Holly complied, sitting between Lee and Harry. Fred spoke up.

"Holly, this is my brother, Percy the Prefect."

Percy (the Weasley who'd shook Harry's hand earlier) gave the twins a withering look and turned to Holly.

"I am honoured to welcome you to Gryffindor."

"Thank you very much."

"Thomas, Dean" a black boy taller than Ron joined them at the Gryffindor table. "Turpin, Lisa," became a Ravenclaw and then it was Ron's turn. He was pale green by now. Holly bit her lip and a second later the hat had shouted, "GRYFFINDOR!"

Harry and Holly clapped loudly with the rest as Ron collapsed on the other side of Harry.

"Well don, Ron, excellent," said Percy Weasley pompously across Harry as "Zabini, Blaise," was made a Slytherin. Professor McGonagall rolled up her scroll and took the Sorting Hat away.

Holly looked toward the head table. A man had gotten to his feet.

The man was tall and thin, with bright, sparkling blue eyes gazing out from behind half-moon spectacles. His hair and beard were silver and almost long enough to reach the floor.

Holly whispered "Who's that?" to Lee. Lee turned to her.

"Who's that? That's Albus Dumbledore, our Headmaster. He's one of the greatest wizards in the whole world. Oh, he's going to speak!"

"Welcome!" Dumbledore said. "Welcome to a new year at Hogwarts! Before we begin our banquet, I would like to say a few words. And here they are: Nitwit! Blubber! Oddment! Tweak! Thank you!"

He sat back down. Everyone clapped and cheered. Holly bit back a grin. She had a feeling she was going to like Dumbledore.

"Is he – a bit mad?" she heard Harry ask Percy uncertainly.

"Mad?" Percy said airily. "He's a genius! Best wizard in the world! But he is a bit mad, yes. Potatoes, Harry?"

Harry's mouth fell open. The plates were now piled with food. Harry took some potatoes and then passed the platter to Holly. Pretty soon, they were all eating hungrily.

"That does look good," said the ghost in the ruff sadly.

"Can't you –?" Harry began.

"I haven't eaten for nearly four hundred years," said the ghost. "I don't need to, of course, but one does miss it. I don't think I've introduced myself? Sir Nicholas de Mimsy-Porpington at your service. Resident ghost of Gryffindor tower."

"I know who you are!" said Ron suddenly. "My brothers told me about you – you're Nearly Headless Nick!"

"I would _prefer_ you to call me Sir Nicholas de Mimsy –" the ghost began stiffly, but sand-haired Seamus Finnigan interrupted.

"_Nearly_ Headless? How can you be _nearly_ headless?"

Sir Nicholas looked extremely miffed, as if their little chat wasn't going at all the way he wanted.

"Like this," he said irritable. He seized his left ear and pulled. His whole head swung off his neck and fell onto his shoulder as if it was on a hinge. Someone had obviously tried to behead him, but not done it properly. Looking pleased at the stunned looks on their faces, Nearly Headless Nick flipped his head back onto his neck, coughed, and said, "So – new Gryffindors! I hope you're going to help us win the house championship this year? Gryffindors have never gone so long without winning. Slytherin's have got the cup 6 years in a row! The Bloody Baron's becoming almost unbearable – he's the Slytherin ghost."

Holly and Harry looked over at the Slytherin table and saw a horrible ghost sitting there with blank staring eyes, a gaunt face, and robes stained with silver blood. He was sitting right next to Malfoy who, Harry was pleased to see, didn't look too pleased with the seating arrangements.

"How did he get covered in blood?" asked Holly.

"I've never asked," said Nearly Headless Nick delicately.

As the dinner progressed, Holly sat back. She just watched everyone, occasionally sipping her water. As the dishes cleared and then filled with dessert, as separate conversations broke out, her attention turned to the teacher's table. She saw Hagrid and McGonagall and Dumbledore. Her eyes found the hook-nosed teacher. He, all in black, was talking to a pale nervous young man in a large purple turban. Holly watched him, wondering. _Why did she feel like he was always in pain? Why was she feeling her cheeks flush? Why was her heart beating faster when she looked at him?_ Suddenly the teacher looked at her – no at Harry.

"Ouch!" Harry clapped a hand to his head.

"What is it?" asked Percy.

"N-nothing."

"Are you okay?" asked Holly.

"Yes."

"Who's that teacher talking to Professor Quirrell?" he asked Percy. Holly realized that Quirrell must be the teacher in the purple turban. She listened as Percy said "Oh, you know Quirrell already, do you? No wonder he's looking so nervous, that's Professor Snape." Snape! She had a name for him! "He teaches Potions, but he doesn't want to – everyone knows he's after Quirrell's job. Knows an awful lot about the Dark Arts, Snape."

Holly and Harry watched Snape for the rest of the meal, but Snape didn't look their way again.

At last, the desserts too disappeared, and Professor Dumbledore got to his feet again. The hall fell silent.

"Ahem – just a few more words now that we are all fed and watered. I have a few start-of-term notices to give you. First years should note that the forest on the grounds is forbidden to all pupils. And a few of our older students would do well to remember that as well."

Dumbledore's twinkling eyes flashed in the direction of the Weasley twins. In response to Holly's look, the twins shrugged sheepishly.

"I have also been asked by Mr. Filch, the caretaker, to remind you all that no magic should be used between classes in the corridors. Quidditch trials will be held in the second week of the term. Anyone interested in playing for their house teams should contact Madame Hooch."

"Quidditch?" Holly mouthed to Lee. He mouthed back, "Tell you later." Dumbledore continued.

"And finally, I must tell you that this year, the third-floor corridor on the right-hand side is out of bounds to everyone who does not wish to die a very painful death."

Harry laughed, but he was one of the few who did.

"He's not serious?" he muttered to Percy.

"Must be," said Percy, frowning at Dumbledore. "It's odd, because he usually gives us a reason why we're not allowed to go somewhere – the forest's full of dangerous beasts, everyone knows that. I do think he might have told us prefects at least."

"And now, before we go to bed, let us sing the school song!" cried Dumbledore. Holly noticed the other teachers' smiles had become rather fixed, except for Snape who hadn't smiled once during the entire feast.

Dumbledore gave his wand a little flick, as if he was trying to get a fly off the end, and a long golden ribbon flew out of it, which rose high above the tables and twisted itself, snakelike, into words.

"Everyone pick their favorite tune," said Dumbledore, "and off we go!"

And the school bellowed:

"_Hogwarts, Hogwarts, Hoggy Warty Hogwarts,_

_Teach us something please,_

_Whether we be old and bald_

_Or young with scabby knees,_

_Our heads could do with filling_

_With some interesting stuff,_

_For now they're bare and full of air_

_Dead flies and bits of fluff,_

_So teach us things worth knowing,_

_Bring back what we've forgot,_

_Just do your best, we'll do the rest,_

_And learn until our brains all rot."_

Everybody finished the song at different times. At last, only the Weasley twins were left singing along to a very slow funeral march. Dumbledore conducted the last few lines with his wand and when they had finished, he was one of those who clapped loudest.

"Ah, Music," he said, wiping his eyes. "A magic beyond all that we do here! And now, bedtime. Off you trot!"

The Gryffindor first years followed Percy through the clattering crowds, out of the Great Hall, and up the marble staircase. Holly was one of the few first-years not tired. In fact, she felt wide-awake. Following silently, Holly noticed that the people in the portraits hanging on the walls talked to them and moved as they passed. Or that twice Percy led them through doorways hidden behind sliding panels and hanging tapestries. They climbed more staircases, most yawning and dragging their feet. Holly was just wondering how much farther they had to go when they came to a sudden halt.

A bundle of walking sticks was floating in midair ahead of them, and as Percy took a step toward them, they started themselves at him.

"Peeves," Percy whispered to the first years, "a poltergeist." He raised his voice, "Peeves – show yourself."

A loud, rude sound, like the air being let out of a balloon, answered.

"Do you want me to go to the Bloody Baron?"

There was a pop, and a little man with wicked, dark eyes and a wide mouth appeared, floating cross-legged in the air, clutching the walking sticks.

"Oooooooh!" he said, with an evil cackle. "Ickle Firsties! What fun!"

He swooped suddenly at them. Everyone except Holly ducked.

"Go away, Peeves, or the Baron'll hear about this, I mean it!" barked Percy.

Peeves stuck out his tongue and vanished, dropping the walking sticks on Neville's head. They heard him zooming away, rattling the coats of armor as he passed.

"You want to watch out for Peeves," said Percy, as they set off again. "The Bloody Baron's the only one who can control him, he won't even listen to us prefects. Here we are."

At the very end of the corridor hung a portrait of a very fat woman in a pink silk dress.

"Password?" she said.

"Caput Draconis," said Percy, and the portrait swung forward to reveal a round hole in the wall. They all scrambled forward through it – Neville needed a leg up – and found themselves in the Gryffindor common room, a cozy, round room full of squashy armchairs.

Percy directed the girls through one door to their dormitory and the boys through another. At the top of a spiral staircase – they were obviously in one of the towers – they found their beds at last; five four-posters hung with deep red, velvet curtains. Their trunks had already been brought up. Holly found she was next to Hermione. Hermione said goodnight and fell asleep almost instantly. Holly lay awake in her black pajamas for a while, thinking. Hogwarts was wonderful, but she missed Megan and Mrs. Riley. She wondered what her classes would be like, especially Potions. Blushing, she closed her eyes and fell asleep.


	10. Holly Meets Hagrid

Holly meets Hagrid

Blackie: Hmph. What a dumb title, that only happens at the en –

Hana: Shush! No giving away secrets. Go sleep on something.

"How do you do it?"

"Do what?"

"Not lose your way!"

"Oh. Ron, Lee's been helping me. Now I can help you, though."

"What I wish," Harry said irritably, "is for people to stop following me or whispering about me."

"True." Holly said reflectively. "It's already hard enough for us with classes."

"And those stairs!" Ron muttered. The others nodded.

There were a hundred and forty-two staircases at Hogwarts: wide, sweeping ones; narrow, rickety ones; some that led somewhere different on a Friday; some with a vanishing step halfway up that you had to remember to jump. Then there were doors that wouldn't open unless you asked politely, or tickled them in exactly the right place, and doors that weren't really doors at all, but solid walls just pretending. It was also very hard to remember where anything was, because it all seemed to move around a lot. The people in the portraits kept going to visit each other, and Holly was sure the coats of armor could walk.

The ghosts didn't help, either. It was always a nasty shock when one of them glided through a door you were trying to open. Some ghosts, like the Fat Friar and Nearly Headless Nick were always happy to point new Gryffindors in the right direction, but Peeves was worth two locked doors and a trick staircase if you met him when you were late for class. He would drop wastepaper baskets on your head, pull rugs from under your feet, pelt you with bits of chalk, or sneak up behind you, invisible, grab your nose, and screech, "GOT YOUR CONK!"

Even worse than Peeves, if that was possible, was the caretaker, Argus Filch. Holly had been warned ahead of time by Lee, but she learned that Harry and Ron had managed to get on the wrong side of him on their very first morning.

Having found them unknowingly trying to force their way into the forbidden third floor corridor, he'd threatened to lock them in the dungeons. Luckily, they'd been rescued by a passing Professor Quirrell.

Filch owned a cat called Mrs. Norris, a scrawny, dust-colored creature with bulging, lamplike eyes just like Filch's. She patrolled the corridors alone. Break a rule in front of her, put just one toe out of line, and she'd whisk off for Filch, who'd appear, wheezing, two seconds later. Filch knew the secret passageways of the school better than anyone (except perhaps Fred and George) and could pop up as suddenly as any of the ghosts. The students all hated him, and it was the dearest ambition of many to give Mrs. Norris a good kick. Holly didn't hate Filch, but she did have to admit that he was very unpleasant.

And then, once you had managed to find them, there were the classes themselves. There was a lot more to magic, as Holly quickly found out, than waving your wand and saying a few funny words. They had to study the night skies through their telescopes every Wednesday at midnight and learn the names of different stars and the movements of the planets. Three times a week, they went out to the greenhouses behind the castle to study Herbology, with a dumpy little witch called Professor Sprout, where they learned how to take care of all the strange plants and fungi, and found out what they were used for.

Easily the most boring class was History of Magic, which was the only one taught by a ghost. Professor Binns had been very old indeed when he had fallen asleep and got up next morning to teach, leaving his body behind him. Binns droned on and on while they scribbled down names and dates. Holly fixed the problem of taking notes during class by learning the same history from the books in the library and taking notes on her own free time. She used Binns' class to do other homework or draw.

Professor Flitwick, the Charms teacher, was a tiny little wizard who had to stand on a pile of books to see over his desk. At the start of their first class, he took the roll call, and when he reached Harry's name he gave an excited squeak and toppled out of sight.

Professor McGonagall was again different. Holly realized that her impression of McGonagall being severe had been correct. Strict and clever, she gave them a talking-to the moment they sat down in her first class.

"Transfiguration is some of the most complex and dangerous magic you will learn at Hogwarts. Anyone messing around in my class will leave and not come back. You have been warned."

Then she changed her desk into a pig. They were all very impressed and couldn't wait to get started, but soon realized they weren't going to be changing the furniture into animal for a long time. After taking a bunch of complex notes, they were each given a match and had to try and turn it into a needle. By the end of the lesson, only Holly and Hermione had made any difference in their matches; Professor McGonagall showed the class how they had gone all silver and pointy and gave the two of them a rare smile.

The class everyone had really looking forward to was Defense Against the Dark Arts, but Quirrell's lessons turned out to be a bit of a joke. His classroom smelled strongly of garlic, which everyone said was to ward off a vampire he'd met in Romania and was afraid would be coming back to get him one of these days. His turban, he told them, had been given to him by an African prince as a thank-you for getting rid of a troublesome zombie, but they weren't sure they believed this story. Quirrell always changed the topic when he was asked how he'd fought the zombie. There was also a funny smell hanging around Quirrell's turban. Lee told Holly that he and the twins were sure it was stuffed full of garlic, so Quirrell would always be protected.

Holly was secretly relieved to find that being from a Muggle family wasn't a disadvantage. She was understanding the concepts easily enough although putting it in practice was harder. There was so much to learn that even people like Ron didn't have much of a head start. To her surprise, Holly was emerging as one of the top in her class. Hermione had secured the top spot, but Holly was right behind her.

Friday was an important day for Harry and Ron. They finally managed to find their way down to the Great Hall for breakfast without getting lost once. Holly was waiting for them and they sat down next to her.

"What have we got today?" Harry asked Ron as he poured sugar on his porridge.

"Double Potions with the Slytherins," Ron said. "Snape's Head of Slytherin House. They say he always favors them – we'll be able to see if it's true."

"Wish McGonagall favored us," Holly said wistfully. Professor McGonagall might be head of Gryffindor House, but it hadn't stopped her from giving them a huge pile of homework the day before. Only be staying up for most of the night had Holly been able to finish most of it. _It's a good thing I don't need a lot of sleep, naturally._ She wouldn't have been sleeping much, anyway. She hadn't been able to stop thinking about Potions and Snape.

Just then, the mail arrived. Holly had gotten used to this by now, but it had been a bit of a shock on the first morning when about a hundred owls had suddenly streamed into the Great Hall during breakfast, circling the tables until they saw their owners, and dropping letters and packages into their laps.

Holly saw Amber fly down to her. She was back! Holly had written to Megan, while telling her to just use Amber to write letters to her. Amber dropped off the letter and flew to the Owlery to get some sleep. Holly read the letter with a pang of homesickness, almost seeing Megan's face as she read what had been happening. (prank on substitute teacher, date with Luke, Sophia the Snob …) She put the letter away and looked at Harry, who was reading a note. He borrowed Ron's quill, scribbled something on the back of the note and sent Hedwig off with it. While Ron was busy talking to Dean, Holly asked Harry.

"What was on the note?"

"Oh. I'm joining Hagrid for tea today at 3."

"Can I come with you and meet Hagrid?"

"Sure."

"C'mon, you two," Ron said. "It's time for Potions."

Potions lessons took place down in one of the dungeons. It was colder here than up in the castle, and many thought it would have been quite creepy enough without the pickled animals floating in glass jars all around the walls. Holly thought it was like a lab, kind of cool.

Snape, like Flitwick, started the class by taking the roll call, and like Flitwick, he paused at Harry's name.

"Ah yes," he said softly, "Harry Potter. Our new – _celebrity_."

Draco Malfoy and his friends, the musclemen (who, Holly had learned, were Crabbe and Goyle) sniggered. Snape finished calling the names and looked up at the class. As Holly looked at him, she knew. The Pain was still there, she wondered if it always was. She'd thought about what she had felt. Was she really in love with Snape? A teacher! Or was she simply trying to find a gather figure, but no … that was Dumbledore, she decided. Just then, Snape started and Holly stopped to listen.

"You are here to learn the subtle science and exact art of potion-making," he began. He spoke in barely more than a whisper, but they caught every word – like Professor McGonagall, Snape had the gift of keeping a class silent without effort. "As there is little foolish wand-waving here, many of you will hardly believe this is magic. I don't expect you will really understand the beauty of the softly simmering cauldron with its shimmering fumes, the delicate power of liquids that creep through human veins, bewitching the mind, ensnaring the senses … I can teach you how to bottle fame, brew glory, even stopper death – if you aren't as big a bunch of dunderheads as I usually have to teach."

More silence followed this little speech. Harry and Ron exchanged looks with raised eyebrows. Hermione was on the edge of her seat and looked desperate to start proving that she wasn't a dunderhead. Holly was trying not to shiver as she felt Snape's voice, like black silk, wash over her.

"Potter!" said Snape suddenly. "What would I get if I added powdered root of asphodel to an infusion of wormwood?"

Holly glanced at Harry, who looked stumped. Hermione's hand had shot up into the air.

"I don't know, sir," said Harry.

Snape smiled softly.

"Tut, tut – fame clearly isn't everything."

He ignored Hermione's hand. Holly, looking at him, felt that the Pain was more intense for him when he looked at Harry. Snape continued.

"Let's try again. Potter, where would you look if I told you to find me a bezoar?"

Hermione stretched her hand as high into the air as it would go without her leaving her seat, but Holly could tell Harry had no clue what a bezoar was. Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle were shaking with laughter.

"I don't know, sir."

"Thought you wouldn't open a book before coming, eh, Potter?"

Okay, that was unfair. Holly had looked through all her books beforehand, and she bet Harry had as well. Did Snape expect Harry to remember everything he had read in _Magical Drafts and Potions_? It looked to Holly like Snape had a special dislike of Harry, though she didn't know why.

Snape was still ignoring Hermione's quivering hand.

"What is the difference, Potter, between monkshood and wolfsbane?"

At this, Hermione stood up, her hand stretching toward the dungeon ceiling.

"I don't know," said Harry quietly. "I think Hermione does though, why don't you try her?"

A few people laughed; Holly saw Seamus wink at Harry. Snape, however, wasn't amused.

"Sit down," he snapped at Hermione. "For your information, Potter, asphodel and wormwood make a sleeping potion so powerful it is known as the Draught of Living Death. A bezoar is a stone taken from the stomach of a goat and it will save you from most poisons. As for monkshood and wolfsbane, they are the same plant, which also goes by the name of aconite. Well? Why aren't you all copying that down?"

Holly paused in her note-taking as there was a sudden rummaging for quills and parchment. Over the noise, Snape said, "And a point will be taken from Gryffindor house for your cheek, Potter."

Things didn't improve for the Gryffindors as the Potions lesson continued. Snape put them all into pairs (Holly and Hermione were together) and set them to mixing up a simple potion to cure boils. He swept around in his long black cloak, watching them weigh dried nettles and crush snake fangs, criticizing almost everyone except Malfoy, whom he seemed to like. He was just telling everyone to look at the perfect way Malfoy had stewed his horned slugs when clouds of acid green smoke and a loud hissing filled the dungeon. Neville had somehow managed to melt Seamus's cauldron into a twisted blob. Now their potion was seeping across the stone floor, burning holes in people's shoes. Within seconds, the whole class was standing on their stools while Neville, who had been drenched in the potion when the cauldron collapsed, moaned in pain as angry red boils sprang up all over his arms and legs. Holly, on her stool, felt a wave of sympathy for Neville. That had to hurt.

"Idiot boy!" snarled Snape, clearing the spilled potion away with one wave of his wand. "I suppose you added the porcupine quills before taking the cauldron off the fire?"

Neville whimpered as red boils started to pop up all over his nose.

"Take him up to the hospital wing," Snape spat at Seamus. Then he rounded on Harry and Ron, who had been working next to Neville.

"You – Potter – why didn't you tell him not to add the quills? Thought he'd make you look good if he got it wrong, did you? That's another point you've lost for Gryffindor."

Holly saw Harry start to open his mouth to argue, but Ron kicked him behind the cauldron. Holly felt it was best that Harry didn't speak up.

As they left the dungeon, Holly could see that Harry was feeling down. She gave him a smile.

"It'll be okay."

"But …" started Harry.

"Cheer up," said Ron, "Snape's always taking points off Fred and George. Can I come to meet Hagrid with you two?"

At five to 3, they left the castle and made their way across the grounds. Hagrid lived in a small wooden house on the edge of the Forbidden Forest. A crossbow and a pair of galoshes were outside the front door.

When Harry knocked, they heard a frantic scrabbling and several booming barks. Then Hagrid's voice rang out, saying, "Back, Fang – _back_."

Hagrid's big, hairy face appeared in the crack as he pulled the door open.

"Hang on," he said. "Back, Fang."

He let them in, struggling to keep a hold on the collar of an enormous black boarhound.

There was only one room inside. Hams and pheasants were hanging from the ceiling, a copper kettle was boiling on the open fire, and in the corner stood a massive bed with a patchwork quilt over it.

"Make yourselves at home," said Hagrid, letting go of Fang, who bounded straight at Ron and started liking his ears. Like Hagrid, Fang was clearly not as fierce as he looked.

Harry motioned to Holly. "This is Holly Smith."

"Nice t'meet ye." "It's very nice to meet you as well."

"This (indicating Ron) is Ron," Harry told Hagrid, who was now pouring boiling water into a large teapot and putting rock cakes onto a plate.

"Another Weasley, eh?" said Hagrid, glancing at Ron's freckles. "I spent half me life chasin' yer twin brothers away from the forest."

The rock cakes were shapeless lumps with raisings that almost broke their teeth, but Holly and the boys pretended to enjoy them as they told Hagrid about their first lessons. Fang rested his head on Harry's knee and drooled all over his robes. The boys were delighted to hear Hagrid call Filch "that old git."

"An' as fer that cat, Mrs. Norris, I'd like ter introduce her to Fang sometime. D'yeh know, every time I go up ter the school, she follows me everywhere? Can't get rid of her – Filch puts her up to it."

Harry told Hagrid about Snape's lesson. Hagrid, like Ron, told Harry not to worry about it, that Snape liked hardly any of the students.

"But he seemed to really _**hate**_ me!"

"Rubbish!" said Hagrid. "Why should he?"

Yet Holly couldn't help thinking that Hagrid didn't quite meet Harry's eyes when he said that.

"How's yer brother Charlie?" Hagrid asked Ron. "I liked him a lot – great with animals."

Holly felt Hagrid had changed the subject on purpose, but she listened with interest to Ron talking about Charlie's work with dragons. Meanwhile, Harry picked up a piece of paper that was lying on the table under the tea cozy. It was a cutting from the _Daily Prophet_:

**GRINGOTTS BREAK-IN LATEST**

Investigations continue into the break-in at Gringotts on 31 July, widely believed to be the work of Dark wizards or witches unknown.

Gringotts goblins today insisted that nothing had been taken. The vault that was searched had in fact been emptied earlier today.

"But we're not telling you what was in there, so keep your noses out if you know what's good for you," said a Gringotts spokesgoblin this afternoon.

"Hagrid!" Harry said, "this Gringotts break-in happened on my birthday! It might have been happening while we were there!"

Hagrid just grunted and offered him another rock cake. Holly looked at Harry with interest. So, his birthday was July 31st.

Later, as they walked back to the castle, Holly pondered at all that had happened that day. Hogwarts was turning out to be nothing like she had ever dreamed.


	11. Nighttime Revelations

Nighttime Revelations

Hana: Well, well …. Well, well ….

Blackie: Well, well – what? *hmph*

Hana: You'll see in the chapter. Think of the title *satisfied chuckle*

It was nighttime and the corridors were dark. The moonlight shining through the windows helped Holly see her way. It was cold down in the dungeon corridors, but Holly had prepared for this by wearing a cute black sweater on top of her black pajama set. She glanced around nervously. She was standing against the wall opposite Snape's quarters, which she had discovered by asking Lee. She had told Lee she wished to know what part of the dungeons to avoid. Now she was here and out of the Common Room at night; a thing she could be severely punished for if she was caught.

Holly didn't know why was doing this, it was certifiably insane. She walked forward into the middle of the corridor. "Why was she doing this?" she thought. "Just because she couldn't stop thinking about Snape didn't mean she had to stalk him outside where he sleeps! She was officially crazy. She –"

Her thoughts were interrupted by a soft voice behind her.

"Miss Smith?"

Holly whirled around. Standing behind her was Professor Dumbledore. Blushing, she started to stammer out an excuse, but was stopped by Dumbledore, who raised his hand.

"May I ask exactly what you are doing here, Miss Smith?"

Holly felt his bright, blue eyes piercing through her. She decided that the truth, no matter how scandalous, would be the best course.

"I'm here because I love Professor Snape, sir."

Professor Dumbledore looked at her.

"You're very frank, Miss Smith," he finally remarked. Holly blushed.

"Well, yes, I suppose I am," she said. "The point is, Professor, I have thought about this and I do love him. I'm not just looking for a father figure, either, because –" here, her blush deepened, "my father figure would be you. I don't need Professor Snape to love me – I just want to be able to help him or be there for him if he needs someone. I can tell. He has this Pain that's eating away at him. I don't want him to always be hurting, always lonely!"

Dumbledore studied the small girl intently. One glance and able to see what Snape was feeling. Truly fascinating. He knew that she was sincere, yet … he spoke up.

"Would you still love him if he was a Death Eater, Miss Smith?"

Holly looked puzzled. "What's a Death Eater?"

Dumbledore paused. "Well, it's someone who is a follower of Lord Voldemort."

Holly nodded. She'd read about Lord Voldemort in her books. Lee had made her promise to call him You-Know-Who, because people were so scared of his name.

"Well," Dumbledore continued, "that's what I want to know. Would you still love Professor Snape if he was once a Death Eater? Or if he had killed people?"

Holly paused and then looked at Dumbledore keenly. "Yes, I would. Who one is as a person is not what one did."

Dumbledore looked at Holly with interest. This girl was certainly unique.

"Very well, Miss Smith. If Professor Snape is ever in need of someone to help him with something, I will keep you in mind as a volunteer. In the meanwhile, please don't stand outside this door all night. Understand?"

Holly nodded and as she went upstairs to bed, having said good-night to Professor Dumbledore, she felt relieved that she hadn't received a punishment. In fact, if anything, she had received a reward! She hoped something might happen so she would be able to help Snape …..


	12. Meeting Fluffy

Meeting Fluffy

**Hana**: I'm exhausted! And I've learned from my earlier chapters. Now there will be more space in between my comments and the story and –

**Blackie**: I want treats! *meow!* Give me treats!

**Hana**: Shut up! You've already had treats. As above, my name and Blackie's will be bolded. Thank you.

Holly had noticed that Harry and Ron didn't like Malfoy. She was puzzled until Harry told her about their encounter with Malfoy on the train ride to Hogwarts. Holly understood – Malfoy was constantly bragging to anyone around when he had the chance.

Still, first-year Gryffindors only had Potions with the Slytherins, so they didn't have to put up with Malfoy much. Or at least the didn't, until they spotted a notice pinned up in the Gryffindor common room that made them all groan. Flying lessons would be starting on Thursday – and Gryffindor and Slytherin would be learning together. Holly was looking forward to the lessons. Lee had explained to her about Quidditch and frankly, flying sounded pretty cool.

"Typical," said Harry darkly. "Just what I always wanted. To make a fool of myself on a broomstick in front of Malfoy."

"You don't know that you'll make a fool of yourself," said Ron reasonably. "Anyhow, I know Malfoy's always going on about how good he is at Quidditch, but I bet that's all talk."

Malfoy certainly did talk about flying a lot. He complained loudly about first years never getting on the house Quidditch teams and told long, boastful stories that always seemed to end with him narrowly escaping Muggles in helicopters. He wasn't the only one, though; the way Seamus Finnigan told it, he'd spent most of his childhood zooming around the countryside on his broomstick. Even Ron would tell anyone who'd listen about the time he'd almost hit a hang glider on Charlie's old broom. Everyone from wizarding families talked about Quidditch constantly. Ron had already had a big argument with Dean Thomas, who shared Harry and Ron's dormitory, about soccer. Ron couldn't see what was so exciting about a game with only one ball where no one was allowed to fly. Harry told Holly that he'd caught Ron prodding Dean's poster of West Ham soccer team, trying to make the players move.

Neville had never been on a broomstick in his life, because his grandmother had never let him near one. Privately, Holly felt she'd had good reason, because Neville managed to have an extraordinary number of accidents even with both feet on the ground.

Hermione Granger was almost as nervous about flying as Neville was. This was something you couldn't learn by heart out of a book – not that she hadn't tried. At breakfast on Thursday she bored them all stupid with flying tips she'd gotten out of a library book called _Quidditch Through the Ages_. Neville was hanging on to her every word, desperate for anything that might help him hang on to his broomstick later, but everybody else was very pleased when Hermione's lecture was interrupted by the arrival of the mail.

A barn owl brought Neville a small package from his grandmother. He opened it excitedly and showed them a glass ball the size of a large marble, which seemed to be full of white smoke.

"It's a Remembrall!" he explained. "Gran knows I forget things – this tells you if there's something you've forgotten to do. Look, you hold it tight like this and if it turns red – oh …" His face fell, because the Remembrall had suddenly glowed scarlet, "… you've forgotten something …"

Neville was trying to remember what he'd forgotten when Draco Malfoy, who was passing the Gryffindor table, snatched the Remembrall out of his hand.

Harry and Ron jumped to their feet. They were half hoping for a reason to fight Malfoy, but Professor McGonagall, who could spot trouble quicker than any teacher in the school, was there in a flash.

"What's going on?"

"Malfoy's got my Remembrall, Professor."

Scowling, Malfoy quickly dropped the Remembrall back on the table.

"Just looking," he said, and sloped away with Crabbe and Goyle behind him.

At 3:30 that afternoon, Holly, Ron, Harry and the other Gryffindors hurried down the front steps onto the grounds for their first flying lesson. It was a clear, breezy day, and the grass rippled under their feet as they marched down the sloping lawns toward a smooth, flat lawn on the opposite side of the grounds to the Forbidden Forest, whose trees were swaying darkly in the distance.

The Slytherins were already there, and so were twenty broomsticks lying in neat lines on the ground. Holly had heard Fred and George complain about the school brooms, saying that some of them started to vibrate if you flew too high, or always flew slightly to the left.

Their teacher, Madam Hooch, arrived. She had short, grey hair, and yellow eyes like a hawk.

"Well, what are you all waiting for?" she barked. "Everyone stand by a broomstick. Come on, hurry up."

Everyone scrambled to stand by a broomstick. Holly's broom was old and some of the wood had chipped off.

"Stick out your right hand over your broom," called Madam Hooch at the front, "and say 'UP!'"

"UP!" everyone shouted.

Holly's and Harry's brooms jumped into their hands right away. Hermione's had simply rolled over on the ground and Neville's – hadn't moved at all. Holly wasn't surprised; there was a quaver in Neville's voice that said only too clearly that he wanted to keep his feet on the ground.

Madam Hooch then showed them how to mount their brooms without sliding off the end, and walked up and down the rows correcting their grips. Harry and Ron were delighted when she told Malfoy he'd been doing it wrong for years.

"Now, when I blow my whistle, you kick off from the ground, hard," said Madam Hooch. "keep your brooms steady, rise a few feet, and then come straight back down by leaning forward slightly. On my whistle – three – two –"

But Neville, nervous and jumpy and frightened of being left on the ground, pushed off hard before the whistle had touched Madam Hooch's lips.

"Come back, boy!" she shouted, but Neville was rising straight up like a cork shot out of a bottle – twelve feet – twenty feet. Holly saw his scared white face look down at the ground falling away, saw him gasp, slip sideways off the broom and –

WHAM – a thud and a nasty crack and Neville lay facedown on the grass in a heap. His broomstick was still rising higher and higher, and started to drift lazily toward the Forbidden Forest and out of sight.

Madam Hooch was bending over Neville, her face as white as his.

"Broken wrist," Holly heard her mutter. "Come on, boy – it's all right, up you get."

She turned to the rest of the class.

"None of you is to move while I take this boy to the hospital wing! You leave those brooms where they are or you'll be out of Hogwarts before you can say 'Quidditch.' Come on, dear."

Neville, his face tear-streaked, clutching his wrist, hobbled off with Madam Hooch, who had her arm around him.

No sooner were they out of earshot than Malfoy burst into laughter.

"Did you see his face, the great lump?"

The other Slytherins joined in.

"Shut up, Malfoy!" snapped Parvati Patil.

"Ooh, sticking up for Longbottom?" said Pansy Parkinson, a hard-faced Slytherin girl. "Never thought you'd like fat little cry-babies, Parvati."

"Look!" said Malfoy, darting forward and snatching something out of the grass. "It's that stupid thing Longbottom's gran sent him."

The Remembrall glittered in the sun s he held it up.

"Give that here, Malfoy," said Harry quietly. Everyone stopped to watch, including Holly.

Malfoy smiled nastily.

"I think that I'll leave it somewhere for Longbottom to find – how about – up a tree?"

"Give it here!" Harry yelled, but Malfoy had leapt onto his broomstick and taken off. He hadn't been lying, he could fly well. Hovering level with the topmost branches of an oak, he called, "Come and get it, Potter!"

Harry grabbed his broom.

"_No!_" shouted Hermione Granger. "Madam Hooch told us not to move – you'll get us all into trouble."

Harry ignored her. He mounted the broom and kicked hard against the ground and he soared upwards. He pulled his broomstick up a little to take it even higher. Holly swallowed nervously as the other girls screamed or gasped and Ron gave an admiring whoop. He turned his broomstick sharply to face Malfoy. Malfoy looked stunned.

"Give it here," Harry called, "or I'll knock you off that broom!"

"Oh, yeah?" said Malfoy, trying to sneer, but looking worried.

Holly watched as Harry leaned forward and grasped the broom tightly in both hands, causing it to shoot toward Malfoy like a javelin. Malfoy only just got out of the way in time; Harry made a sharp about-face and held the broom steady. A noise attracted Holly's attention; Ron and a few others were clapping.

"No Crabbe and Goyle up here to save your neck, Malfoy," Harry called.

The same thought seemed to have struck Malfoy.

"Catch it if you can, then!" he shouted, and he threw the glass ball high into the air and streaked back toward the ground.

Holly watched with her heart in her mouth as Harry streaked toward the falling Remembrall, coming closer and closer to crashing. A foot from the ground he caught it, just in time to pull his broom straight, and he toppled gently onto the grass with the Remembrall clutched safely in his fist.

"HARRY POTTER!"

Holly whirled around. Professor McGonagall was running toward them. Harry got to his feet, trembling.

"Never – in all my time at Hogwarts –"

Professor McGonagall was almost speechless with shock, and her glasses flashed furiously, "—how dare you – might have broken your neck –"

"It wasn't his fault, Professor –"

"Be quiet, Miss Patil –"

"But Malfoy –"

"That's _enough_, Mr. Weasley. Potter, follow me, now."

Holly watched silently as Harry followed McGonagall, obviously terrified. Holly hoped Harry wouldn't be expelled.

"You're _joking_."

It was dinnertime. Harry had just told Ron and Holly what had happened when he'd left the grounds with Professor McGonagall. Not only had Harry not been expelled, he'd been made Seeker of the Gryffindor Quidditch team. Ron had a piece of steak and kidney pie halfway to his mouth, but he'd forgotten all about it.

"_Seeker_?" he said. "But first-years _never_ – you must be the youngest house player in about –"

"– a century," said Harry, shoveling pie into his mouth. "Wood told me."

Ron was so amazed, so impressed, he just sat and gaped at Harry.

"I start training next week," said Harry. "Only don't tell anyone, you two. Wood wants to keep it a secret."

Fred and George now came into the hall, spotted Harry, and hurried over.

"Well done," said George in a low voice. "Wood told us. We're on the team too – Beaters."

"I tell you, we're going to win that Quidditch cup for sure this year," said Fred. "We haven't won since Charlie left, but this year's team is going to be brilliant. You must be good, Harry; Wood was almost skipping when he told us."

"Anyway, we've got to go, Lee Jordan reckons he's found a new secret passageway out of the school."

"Bet it's that one behind the statue of Gregory the Smarmy that we found in our first week. See you."

Fred and George had hardly disappeared when someone far less welcome showed up: Malfoy, flanked by Crabbe and Goyle.

"Having a last meal, Potter? When are you getting the train back to the Muggles?"

"You're a lot braver now that you're back on the ground and you've got your little friends with you," said Harry coolly.

There was of course nothing at all little about Crabbe and Goyle, but as the High Table was full of teachers, neither of them could do more than crack their knuckles and scowl.

"I'd take you on anytime on my own," said Malfoy. "Tonight, if you want. Wizard's duel. Wand's only – no contact. What's the matter? Never heard of a wizard's duel, I suppose?"

"Of course he has," said Ron, wheeling around. "I'm his second, who's yours?"

Malfoy looked at Crabbe and Goyle, sizing them up.

"Crabbe," he said. "Midnight all right? We'll meet you in the trophy room; that's always unlocked."

When Malfoy had gone, Ron and Harry looked at each other. Holly sighed.

"What is a wizard's duel?" said Harry. "And what do you mean, you're my second?"

"Well, a second's there to take over if you die," said Ron casually, getting started at last on his cold pie. Catching the look on Harry's face, he added quickly, "But people only die in proper duels, you know, with real wizards. The most you and Malfoy'll be able to do is send sparks at each other. Neither of you knows enough magic to do any real damage. I bet he expected you to refuse anyway."

"And what if I wave my wand and nothing happens?"

"Throw it away and punch him on the nose," Ron suggested. Holly mentally rolled her eyes.

"Do you guys if I come with you? I can maybe act as an impartial judge." (or stop you two from doing something she thought!)

"Yeah, sure, if you want to."

"Excuse me."

They all looked up. It was Hermione Granger.

"Can't a person eat in peace in this place?" said Ron.

Hermione ignored him and spoke to Harry.

"I couldn't help overhearing what you and Malfoy were saying –"

"Bet you could," Ron muttered.

"– and you _mustn't_ go wandering around the school at night, think of the points you'll lose Gryffindor if you're caught, and you're bound to be. It's really very selfish of you."

"And it's really none of your business," said Harry.

"Good-bye," said Ron.

Later that night, Holly crept down to the common room to meet the boys. A few embers were still in the fireplace, turning all the armchairs into hunched black shadows. They had almost reached the portrait hole when a voice spoke from the chair nearest them, "I can't believe you're going to do this, Harry."

A lamp flickered on. It was Hermione Granger, wearing a pink bathrobe and a frown.

"_You_!" said Ron furiously. "Go back to bed!"

"I almost told your brother," Hermione snapped, "Percy – he's a prefect, he'd put a stop to this."

"Come on," Harry said to Ron and Holly. He pushed open the portrait of the Fat Lady and climbed through the hole. Holly followed Harry, Ron climbing through after Holly.

Hermione wasn't going to give up that easily. She followed Ron through the portrait hole, hissing at them like an angry goose.

"Don't you care about Gryffindor, do you _only_ care about yourselves, _I_ don't want Slytherin to win the house cup, and you'll lose all the points I got from Professor McGonagall for knowing about Switching Spells."

"Go away."

"All right, but I warned you, you just remember what I said when you're on the train home tomorrow, you're so –"

But what they were, they didn't find out. Hermione had turned to the portrait of the Fat Lady to get back the portrait of the Fat Lady to get back inside and found herself facing an empty painting. The Fat Lady had gone on a nighttime visit and Hermione was locked out of Gryffindor tower.

"Now what am I going to do?" she asked shrilly.

"That's your problem," Ron said. "We've got to go, we're going to be late."

They hadn't even reached the end of the corridor, Holly glancing behind her, before Hermione caught up with them.

"I'm coming with you," she said.

"You are _not_."

"Do you think I'm going to stand out here and wait for Filch to catch me? If he finds all four of us I'll tell him the truth, that I was trying to stop you and you can back me up."

"You've got some nerve –" said Ron loudly.

"Shut up, both of you!" said Harry sharply. "I heard something."

It was a sort of snuffling.

"Mrs. Norris?" breathed Ron, squinting through the dark.

It wasn't Mrs. Norris. It was Neville. He was curled up on the floor, fast asleep, but jerked suddenly awake as they crept closer.

"Thank goodness you found me! I've been out here for hours, I couldn't remember the new password to get in to bed."

"Keep your voice down, Neville," Holly said kindly. "The password's 'Pig Snout' but it won't help you now, the Fat Lady's gone off somewhere."

"How's your arm?" asked Harry.

"Fine," said Neville, showing them. "Madam Pomfrey mended it in about a minute."

"Good – well, look, Neville, we've got to be somewhere, we'll see you later –"

"Don't leave me!" said Neville, scrambling to his feet. "I don't want to stay here alone, the Bloody Baron's been past twice already."

Ron looked at his watch and then glared furiously at Hermione and Neville.

"If either of you get us caught, I'll never rest until I've learned that Curse of the Bogies Quirrell told us about, and used it on you."

Hermione opened her mouth, perhaps to tell Ron exactly how to use the Curse of the Bogies, but Harry hissed at her to be quiet and beckoned them all forward.

They flitted along corridors striped with bars of moonlight from the high windows. At every turn Holly expected to run into Filch or Mrs. Norris, but they were lucky. They sped up a staircase to the third floor and tiptoed toward the trophy room.

Malfoy and Crabbe weren't there yet. The crystal trophy cases glimmered where the moonlight caught them. Cups, shields, plates, and statues winked silver and gold in the darkness. They edged along the walls, keeping their eyes on the doors at either end of the room. Harry took out his wand in case Malfoy leapt in and started at once. The minutes crept by.

"He's late, maybe he's chickened out," Ron whispered.

Then a noise in the next room made them jump. Harry had only just raised his wand when they heard someone speak – and it wasn't Malfoy.

"Sniff around, my sweet, they might be lurking in a corner."

It was Filch speaking to Mrs. Norris. Horror-struck, Harry waved madly at the other four to follow him as quickly as possible, they scurried silently toward the door, away from Filch's voice. Neville's robes had barely whipped round the corner when they heard Filch enter the trophy room.

"They're in here somewhere," they heard him mutter, "probably hiding."

"This way!" Harry mouthed to the others and, petrified, they began to creep down a long gallery full of suits of armor. They could hear Filch getting nearer. Neville suddenly let out a frightened squeak and broke into a run – he tripped, grabbed Ron around the waist, and the pair of them toppled right into a suit of armor.

The clanging and crashing were enough to wake the whole castle.

"RUN!" Harry yelled, and the five of them sprinted down the gallery, not looking back to see whether Filch was following – they swung around the doorpost and galloped down one corridor then another, Harry in the lead, without any idea where they were going – they ripped through a tapestry and found themselves in a hidden passageway, hurtled along it and came out near the Charms classroom, which they knew was miles from the trophy room.

"I think we've lost him," Harry panted, leaning against the cold wall and wiping his forehead. Neville was bent double, wheezing and spluttering. Holly had her arms crossed, gripping her thin shoulders, taking deep breaths.

"I – _told_ – you," Hermione gasped, clutching at the stitch in her chest, "I – told – you."

"We've got to get back to Gryffindor tower," said Ron, "quickly as possible."

"Malfoy tricked you," Holly said to Harry. "You realize that, don't you? He was never going to meet you – Filch knew someone was going to be in the trophy room, Malfoy must have tipped him off."

Harry thought she was probably right, but he didn't want to admit it.

"Let's go."

It wasn't going to be that simple. They hadn't gone more than a dozen paces when a doorknob rattled and something came shooting out of a classroom in front of them.

It was Peeves. He caught sight of them and gave a squeal of delight. Holly groaned inwardly. This was going to be tough.

"Shut up, Peeves – please – you'll get us thrown out." Harry said quickly.

Peeves cackled. "Walking around at midnight, Ickle Firsties? Tut, tut, tut. Naughty, naughty, you'll get caughty."

"Not," Holly said beseechingly, "if you don't give us away, Peeves, please."

"Should tell Filch, I should," said Peeves in a saintly voice, but his eyes glittered wickedly. "It's for your own good, you know."

"Get out of the way," snapped Ron, taking a swipe at Peeves – this was a big mistake.

"STUDENTS OUT OF BED!" Peeves bellowed, "STUDENTS OUT OF BED DOWN THE CHARMS CORRIDOR!"

Ducking under Peeves, they ran for their lives, right to the end of the corridor where they slammed into a door – and it was locked.

"This is it!" Ron moaned, as they pushed helplessly at the door, "We're done for! This is the end!"

They could hear footsteps, Filch running as fast as he could toward Peeves' shouts. Holly had read about an Unlocking Charm, but they hadn't learned it yet. She felt Hermione against her.

"Oh, move over," Hermione snarled. She grabbed Harry's wand, tapped the lock, and whispered "_Alohomora_!"

The lock clicked and the door swung open – they piled through it, shut it quickly, and pressed their ears against it, listening.

"Which way did they go, Peeves?" Filch was saying. "Quick, tell me."

"Say 'please'."

"Don't mess with me, Peeves, now _where did they go_?"

"Shan't say nothing if you don't say please," said Peeves in his annoying singsong voice.

"All right – _please_."

"NOTHING! Ha haaa! Told you I wouldn't say nothing if you didn't say please! Ha ha! Haaaaaa!" and they heard the sound of Peeves whooshing away and Filch cursing in rage.

"He thinks this door is locked," Harry whispered. "I think we'll be okay – get off, Neville!" For Neville had been tugging on the sleeve of Harry's bathrobe for the last minute. "_What_?"

Holly turned around with the others – and saw, quite clearly, what. The only thing she could liken it to would be Cerberus melded with King Kong.

They were looking straight into the eyes of a dog, a monstrous dog, a dog that filled the whole space between the ceiling and floor. It had three heads. Three pairs of rolling, mad eyes; three noses, twitching and quivering in their direction; three drooling mouths, saliva hanging in slippery ropes from yellowish fangs.

It was standing quite still, all six eyes staring at them, and Holly knew that the only reason they weren't already dead, was that their sudden appearance had taken it by surprise, but it was quickly getting over that, there was no mistaking what those thunderous growls meant.

Harry groped for the doorknob and they fell backward – Harry slammed the door shut, and they ran, they almost flew, back down the corridor. Filch must have hurried off to look for them somewhere else, because they didn't see him anywhere, but they hardly cared – all they wanted to do was put as much space as possible between them and that monster. They didn't stop running until they reached the portrait of the Fat Lady on the seventh floor, who had returned.

"Where on earth have you all been?" she asked, looking at their bathrobes hanging off their shoulders and their flushed, sweaty faces.

"Never mind that – pig snout, pig snout," panted Harry, and the portrait swung forward. They scrambled into the common room and collapsed, trembling, into armchairs.

It was a while before any of them said anything. Neville, indeed, looked as if he'd never speak again. Holly felt as if her heart was going to explode and splatter all over her black pajamas, she having been the only one of the group _not_ wearing a bathrobe.

"What do they think they're doing, keeping a thing like that locked up in a school?" said Ron finally. "If any dog needs exercise, that one does."

Hermione had got both her breath and her bad temper back again.

"You don't use your eyes, any of you, do you?" she snapped. "Didn't you see what it was standing on?"

"The floor?" Harry suggested. "I wasn't looking at its feet, I was too busy with its heads."

"No, _not_ the floor. It was standing on a trapdoor. It's obviously guarding something."

She stood up, glaring at them.

"I hope you're pleased with yourselves. We could all have been killed – or worse, expelled. Now, if you don't mind, I'm going to bed."

Ron stared after her, his mouth open.

"No, we don't mind," he said. "You'd think we dragged her along, wouldn't you?"

Holly had nothing to reply to that. Silently, she helped Neville collect himself. She then said good-night to the boys and went upstairs. Hermione had already fallen asleep. Holly slipped into bed and snuggled into her pillow. She thought about what Hermione had said.

"_It was standing on a trapdoor. It's obviously guarding something."_

But what? What was so important that Hogwarts would need a giant, three-headed dog to guard it? And why not Gringotts? With these thoughts swirling in her head, Holly fell asleep.


	13. Fighting the Troll

**Hana:** Okay, here's the next chapter. I'm REALLY, REALLY sorry it took so long to update. I actually lost my notebook for a month, then my mom deleted almost all my stuff on the computer, and then I had to work on graduating. However, I will be updating VERY OFTEN over the summer. I promise, I am NOT abandoning this fic, no matter how long it takes, so bear with me …. Also, Blackie won't talk anymore unless I want her to b/c it is exhausting trying to interpret her. In reward to all you patient readers, I'm putting up the next two chapters both at once.

**Disclaimer:** I own nothing and that's very depressing! J.K.R. owns it all, I own Holly and Megan. Whoopee. *eats marshmallow*

Malfoy couldn't believe his eyes when he saw that Harry and Ron were still at Hogwarts the next day, looking tired but perfectly cheerful. Indeed, by the next morning Harry and Ron thought that meeting the three-headed dog had been an excellent adventure, and they were quite keen to have another one. Holly agreed on the outside, but privately thought that one was more than enough. In the meantime, Harry filled Holly and Ron in about the package that seemed to have been moved from Gringotts to Hogwarts, and they spent a lot of time wondering what could possibly need such heavy protection.

"It's either really valuable –" started Ron.

"— or really dangerous," Harry finished.

"Or both." Holly pointed out.

But as all they knew for sure about the mysterious object was that it was about two inches long, they didn't have much chance of guessing what it was without further clues.

Neither Neville nor Hermione showed the slightest interest in what lay underneath the dog and the trapdoor. All Neville cared about was never going near the dog again, something Holly could readily understand.

Hermione was now refusing to speak to Harry and Ron, but she was such a bossy know-it-all that they saw this as an added bonus. Holly was still on speaking terms with Hermione, but she couldn't get her to talk to the boys. All the boys really wanted now was a way of getting back at Malfoy, and to their great delight, just such a thing arrived in the mail about a week later.

As the owls flooded into the Great Hall as usual, everyone's attention was caught at once by a long, thin package carried by six large screech owls. Holly was just as interested as everyone else to see what was in this large parcel, and was amazed when the owls soared down and dropped it right in front of Harry, knocking his bacon to the floor. They had hardly fluttered out of the way when another owl dropped a letter on top of the parcel.

Harry ripped open the letter first, which was lucky, because it said:

DO NOT OPEN THE PARCEL AT THE TABLE

It contains your new Nimbus Two Thousand, but I don't want everybody knowing you've got a broomstick or they'll all want one. Oliver Wood will meet you tonight on the Quidditch field at seven o'clock for your first training session.

Professor M. McGonagall

Harry had difficulty hiding his glee as he handed the note to Ron and Holly to read.

"A Nimbus Two Thousand!" Ron moaned enviously. "I've never even _touched_ one."

They left the hall quickly, wanting to unwrap the broomstick in private before their first class, but halfway across the entrance hall they found the way upstairs barred by Crabbe and Goyle. Malfoy seized the package from Harry and felt it.

"That's a broomstick," he said, throwing it back to Harry with a mixture of jealousy and spite on his face. "You'll be in for it this time, Potter, first years aren't allowed them."

Ron couldn't resist it.

"It's not any onld broomstick," he said, "It's a Nimbus Two Thousand. What did you say you've got at home, Malfoy, a Comet Two Sixty?" Ron grinned at Harry and Holly. "Comets look flashy, butt they're not in the same league as the Nimbus."

"What would you know about it, Weasley, you couldn't afford half the handle," Malfoy snapped back. "I suppose you and your brothers have to save up twig by twig."

Before Ron could answer, Professor Flitwick appeared at Holly's elbow.

"Not arguing, I hope, boys, miss?" he squeaked. Holly smiled at him and opened her mouth to speak, but was cut off by Malfoy.

"Potter's been sent a broomstick, Professor."

"Yes, yes, that's right," said Professor Flitwick, beaming at Harry. "Professor McGonagall told me all about the special circumstances, Potter. And what model is it?"

"A Nimbus Two Thousand, sir," said Harry, fighting not to laugh at the look of horror on Malfoy's face. "And it's really thanks to Malfoy here that I've got it," he added.

Harry and Ron headed upstairs, smothering their laughter at Malfoy's obvious rage and confusion. Holly climbed, smiling at their hidden glee.

"Well, it's true," Harry chortled as they reached the top of the marble staircase, "If he hadn't stolen Neville's Remembrall, I wouldn't be on the team ….."

"So I suppose you think that's a reward for breaking rules?" came an angry voice from just behind them. Hermione was stomping up the stairs, looking disapprovingly at the package in Harry's hand.

"I thought you weren't speaking to us?" said Harry.

"Yes, don't stop now," said Ron, "it's doing us so much good."

Hermione marched away with her nose in the air. Holly gazed after her, her lip bit.

Throughout the day, Holly thought about Hermione. She still tried to be civil; *why* couldn't both sides just admit they were wrong? When she'd had a minute, she'd talked to Lee, although she hadn't revealed the details, obviously. Lee had told her not to worry, Hermione would loosen up as time went on. Lee encouraged Holly on making other friends, not just staying with him and the twins. Holly was commended for being friends with Harry and Ron as well.

After dinner, Holly went upstairs with Ron and Harry to unwrap the Nimbus Two Thousand. As the boys unwrapped the broomstick, Holly studied the dormitory with interest.

"Wow," Ron sighed, as the broomstick rolled onto Harry's bedspread.

Even Holly, who knew nothing about the different brooms, thought it looked wonderful. Sleek and shiny, with a mahogany handle, it had a long tail of neat, straight twigs and Nimbus Two Thousand written in gold near the top. At seven, Harry left them to go practice and didn't come back until it was dark out.

Before Holly knew it, it was October 30th and she'd been at Hogwarts for two months. She'd kept up correspondence with Megan and while she missed Meg, Holly felt more at home at Hogwarts than she did at her house. Her lessons were also becoming more interesting now that they had mastered the basics. Holly was especially good at Charms, Defense Against the Dark Arts, and Potions. For Potions – she thought of it as a bit like baking and it became easy.

On Halloween morning, they woke to the delicious smell of baking pumpkin wafting through the corridors. Even better, Professor Flitwick announced in Charms that he thought they were ready to start making objects fly, something they had all been dying to try since they'd seen him make Neville's toad zoom around the classroom. Professor Flitwick put them into pairs. Holly was paired with Neville. Noticing that Harry looked relieved at this, Holly gave him a little wave.

Ron got paired with Hermione. It was hard to tell whether Ron or Hermione was angrier about this. Hermione hadn't spoken at all to any of them, including Holly, since the day Harry had received his broomstick.

"Now, don't forget that nice wrist movement we've been practicing!" squeaked Professor Flitwick, perched on top of his pile of books as usual. "Swish and flick, remember, swish and flick. And saying the magic words properly is very important, too – never forget Wizard Baruffio, who said 's' instead of 'f' and found himself on the floor with a buffalo on his chest."

As the class went on, Holly kept one eye on Neville and the other on the class. No one was having much success.

The feather that Harry and Seamus were working with burst into flames because Seamus had impatiently prodded it. Harry quickly put it out with his hat.

Ron, at the next table, wasn't having much more luck.

"_Wingardium leviosa!_" he shouted, waving his long arms like a windmill.

"You're saying it wrong," Holly heard Hermione snap. "it's Wing-_gar_-dium Levi-_o_-sa, make the 'gar' nice and long."

"You do it, then, if you're so clever," Ron snarled.

Hermione rolled up the sleeves of her gown, flicked her wand, and said, "_Wingardium Leviosa!_"

Their feather rose off the desk and hovered about four feet above their heads.

"Oh, well done!" cried Professor Flitwick, clapping. "Everyone see here, Miss Granger's done it!"

Ron was in a very bad mood by the end of class.

"It's no wonder no one can stand her," he said to them as they pushed their way into the crowded corridor, "she's a nightmare, honestly.'

Someone knocked into Harry as they hurried past him. It was Hermione. Holly caught a glimpse of her face – and was distressed to see that she was in tears. Harry turned to Ron.

"I think she heard you."

"So?" said Ron, but he looked a bit uncomfortable. She must've noticed she's got no friends."

Hermione didn't turn up for the next class and wasn't seen all afternoon. On their way down to the Great Hall for the Halloween feast, Holly told Harry and Ron that she'd found Hermione crying in the girls' bathroom. When asked if she was all right, Hermione had told Holly she just wanted to be left alone. Ron looked still more awkward at this, but a moment later they had entered the Great Hall, where the Halloween decorations put Hermione out of their minds.

A thousand live bats fluttered from the walls and ceiling while a thousand more swooped over the tables in low black clouds, making the candles in the pumpkins stutter. The feast appeared suddenly on the golden plates, as it had at the start-of-term banquet.

Holly was just helping herself to a chicken leg when Professor Quirrell came sprinting into the hall, his turban askew and terror on his face. Everyone stared as he reached Professor Dumbledore's chair, slumped against the table, and gasped, "Troll-in the dungeons-thought you ought to know."

He then sank to the floor in a dead faint.

There was an uproar. It took several purple firecrackers exploding from the end of Professor Dumbledore's wand to bring silence. Holly looked up at him, as did everyone else.

"Prefects," he rumbled, "lead your Houses back to the dormitories immediately! Teachers, follow me to the dungeons!"

Percy was in his element.

"Follow me! Stick together, first years! No need to fear the troll if you follow my orders! Stay close behind me, now. Make way, first years coming through! Excuse me, I'm a prefect!"

"How could a troll get in?" Harry asked as they climbed the stairs. Holly nodded.

"Don't ask me, they're supposed to be really stupid," said Ron. "Maybe Peeves let it in for a Halloween joke."

Holly wasn't so sure. She didn't think Peeves, as mischievous and naughty as he was, would do something so blatantly dangerous to the school.

They passed different groups of people hurrying in different directions. As they jostled their way through a crowd of confused Hufflepuffs, Harry suddenly grabbed Ron's arm. Holly paused to stay with them.

"I've just thought – Hermione."

"What about her?"

Holly spoke up, realizing, her mind racing.

"She doesn't know about the troll."

Ron bit his lip.

"Oh, all right," he snapped. "But Percy'd better not see us."

Ducking down, they joined the Hufflepuffs going the other way, slipped down a deserted side corridor, and hurried off toward the girls' bathroom, Holly leading them. They had just turned the corner when they heard quick footsteps behind them.

"Percy!" hissed Ron, pulling Harry behind a large stone griffin. Holly dived after them. Peering around the griffin, however, they saw not Percy but Snape. He crossed the corridor and disappeared. Holly heard Harry whisper fiercely:

"What's he doing? Why isn't he down in the dungeons with the rest of the teachers?"

"Search me." Ron replied, shrugging.

Quietly as possible, they crept along the next corridor after Snape's fading footsteps.

"He's heading for the third floor," Harry said, but Ron held up his hand.

"Can you smell something?"

Holly sniffed and a disgusting odour reached her nose, a mixture of old socks and the kind of public toilet no one seems to clean.

And then they heard it – a low grunting, and the shuffling footfalls of gigantic feet. Ron pointed — at the end of a passage to the left, something huge was moving toward them. They shrank into the shadows and watched as it emerged into a patch of moonlight.

It was a horrible sight. Twelve feet tall, its skin was a dull, granite gray, its great lumpy body like a boulder with its small bald head perched on top like a coconut. It had short legs thick as tree trunks with flat, horny feet. The smell coming from it was incredible. It was holding a huge wooden club, which dragged along the floor because its arms were so long.

As they watched, the troll stopped by a doorway and peered inside. It then slouched slowly into the room as Holly's throat tightened. She recognized that room. She heard the others whisper.

"The key's in the lock," Harry muttered. "We could lock it in."

"Good idea," said Ron nervously.

Before Holly could say anything, the boys had leaped to the door and locked it. As the boys, flushed with victory, started to run, Holly raced after them crying a single "Wait!"

As they reached the corner, they heard a high-pitched scream coming from the room.

"Oh, no," said Ron, pale as the Bloody Baron.

"It's the girls' bathroom!" Harry gasped.

"I tried to tell you!" Holly said. "I tried!"

"_Hermione!_" they all said together.

Wheeling around, they ran back to the door and unlocked it. Holly heart was racing as they ran inside.

Hermione was pressed against the opposite wall, looking terrified. The troll was advancing on her, knocking the sinks off the walls as it went.

Holly ran to Hermione as the boys started throwing stuff at the troll to confuse it. Reaching her, she saw that Hermione had a cut on her arm she wasn't aware of. Harry yelled at Hermione to run, but she was still too scared to move.

As Holly held a tissue to Hermione's cut, she saw Harry run and jump onto the troll's back. His wand, in Harry's hand, went straight into the troll's nose. The troll howled with pain and started to flail about; soon, Harry would get hurt. As Holly reached for her wand, she heard Ron cry, "_Wingardium Leviosa!_"

The club suddenly flew out of the troll's hand, rose high, high up into the air, turned slowly over – and dropped, with a sickening crack onto its owner's head. The troll swayed on the spot and then fell flat on its face, with a thud that made the whole room tremble.

Harry got to his feet. He was shaking and out of his breath. Ron was standing there with his wand still raised, staring at what he had done.

It was Holly, kneeling, who spoke first.

"Is it — dead?"

I don't think so," said Harry, "I think it's just been knocked out."

He bent down and pulled his wand out of the troll's nose. It was covered in what looked like lumpy gray glue.

"Ugh – troll boogers." Harry muttered as he wiped his wand on the troll's trousers. Holly joined him and Ron.

A sudden slamming and loud footsteps made the four of them look up. They hadn't realized what a racket they had been making, but of course, someone downstairs must have heard the crashes and the troll's roars. A moment later, Professor McGonagall had com bursting into the room, closely followed by (Holly stiffened) Snape, with Quirrell bringing up the rear. Quirrell took one look at the troll, let out a faint whimper, and sat down quickly on a toilet, clutching his heart.

Snape bent over the troll; Holly noticed he seemed to be favoring his left leg. Professor McGonagall was looking at them, lips white, looking _furious_.

"What on earth were you thinking of?" said Professor McGonagall with cold fury in her voice. Holly glanced at the boys; Ron still had his wand raised. "You're lucky you weren't killed. Why aren't you in your dormitory?"

Snape gave Harry a swift, piercing look. Holly wasn't sure what to say – what could they say?

Then a small voice came out of the shadows.

"Please, Professor McGonagall – they were looking for me."

"Miss Granger!"

Hermione had managed to get to her feet at last. The bloody tissue fluttered to the floor.

"I went looking for the troll because I – I though I could deal with it on my own – you know, because I've read all about them."

Ron dropped his wand. Hermione Granger, telling a downright lie to a teacher?

"If they hadn't found me, I'd be dead by now. Harry distracted the troll and stuck his wand up its nose. Holly helped stop my cut and prevented me being hysterical, Ron knocked it out with its own club. They didn't have time to come and fetch anyone. It was about to finish me off when they arrived."

Holly and the boys tried to look like this was all old news to them.

"Well – in that case …" said Professor McGonagall, staring at them, "Miss Granger, you foolish girl, how could you think of tackling a mountain troll on your own?"

Hermione hung her head, as Holly stared, wide-eyed. Hermione was lying to get them out of trouble?

"Miss Granger, five points will be taken from Gryffindor for this," said Professor McGonagall. "I'm very disappointed in you. If you're not hurt at all, you'd better get off to Gryffindor tower. Students are finishing the feast in their houses."

Hermione left, pausing as Professor McGonagall healed her cut. Professor McGonagall turned to Holly, Harry and Ron.

"Well, I still say you were lucky, but not many first years could have taken on a full-grown mountain troll. You each win Gryffindor five points. Professor Dumbledore will be informed of this. You may go."

They hurried out of the chamber and didn't speak at all until they had climbed two floors up. It was a relief to be away from the smell of the troll, quite apart from anything else.

"We should have gotten more than fifteen points," Ron grumbled.

"Ten, you mean, once she's taken off Hermione's," Holly pointed out.

"Good of her to get us out of trouble like that," Ron admitted. "Mind you, we _did_ save her."

"She might not have needed saving if the two of us (indicating him and Ron) hadn't locked the thing in with her," Harry reminded Ron.

They had reached the portrait of the Fat Lady.

"Pig Snout," they said and entered.

The Common room was packed and noisy. Everyone was eating the food that had been sent up. Hermione, however, stood alone by the door, waiting for them. There was a very embarrassed pause. Then, none of them looking at each other, they all said "Thanks," and hurried off to get plates.

But from that moment on, Hermione became a certified friend. There are some things you can't share without ending up liking each other, and knocking out a twelve foot mountain troll is one of them.


	14. Holly Meets Snape

Holly Meets Snape

**Hana:** Hey, here's the second chapter. I'm putting it up at the same time as the previous chapter. Enjoy!

As they entered November, the weather turned very cold. The mountains around the school became icy gray and the lake like chilled steel. Every morning the ground was covered in frost. Hagrid could be seen from the upstairs windows defrosting broomsticks on the Quidditch field, bundled up in a long moleskin overcoat, rabbit fur gloves, and enormous beaverskin boots.

The Quidditch season had begun. On Saturday, Harry would be playing in his first match after weeks of training: Gryffindor versus Slytherin. If Gryffindor won, they would move up into second place in the house championship. Although Harry was supposed to have been Gryffinder's "secret weapon" – everyone knew he was playing. To calm Harry, Hermione lent him _Quidditch Through the Ages_.

Hermione had become a bit more relaxed about breaking rules since the others had saved her from the mountain troll, and she was much nicer for it. The day before Harry's first Quidditch match the four of them were out in the freezing courtyard during beak, and she had conjured them up a bright blue fire that could be carried around in a jam jar. They were standing with their backs to it, getting warm when Snape crossed the yard. Holly noticed at once that Snape was limping. Harry, Ron, Holly and Hermione moved closer together to block the fine from view; they were sure it wouldn't be allowed. Unfortunately, something about their guilty faces caught Snape's eye. He limped over. He hadn't seen the fire, but he seemed to be looking for a reason to tell them off anyway.

"What's that you've got there, Potter?"

It was _Quidditch Through the Ages._ Harry showed him.

"Library books are not to be taken outside the school," said Snape. "Give it to me. Five points from Gryffindor."

"He's just made that rule up," Harry muttered angrily as Snape limped away. "Wonder what's wrong with his leg?"

"Dunno, but I hope it's really hurting him," spat Ron bitterly. Holly winced.

The Gryffindor common room was very noisy that evening. Harry, Ron, Holly, and Hermione sat together next to a window. Hermione was checking the boys' Charms homework for them. She would never let them copy ("How will you learn?"), but by asking her to read it through, they got the right answers anyway. Holly was working on her Transfiguration homework, nestled on the floor. She paused when Harry got up and told them he was going to try to get his book back from Snape. Holly shook her head slightly, as Ron and Hermione said together, "Better you than me." Harry still went. Holly turned back to her homework.

"Did you get it?" Ron asked, a few minutes later, as Harry joined them. "What's the matter?"

In a low whisper, Harry told them what he'd seen; viz. Snape with a mangled and bloody left leg.

"You know what this means?" he finished breathlessly. "He tried to get past that three-headed dog at Halloween! That's where he was going when we saw him – he's after whatever it's guarding! And I'd bet my broomstick _he_ let that troll in, to make a diversion!"

Holly's eyes were wide and she glanced swiftly at Hermione, who spoke up.

"No – he wouldn't," Hermione interjected. "I know he's not very nice, but he wouldn't try and steal something Dumbledore was keeping safe."

"Honestly, Hermione, you think all teachers are saints or something," snapped Ron. "I'm with Harry. I wouldn't put anything past Snape. But what's he after? What's that dog guarding?"

Holly needed to think – alone. She stood up.

"Well, I don't know what that dog's guarding," she said pleasantly, "but I _do_ know I need to return this book to the library. I'll see you guys in a while."

Holly walked calmly to the library, although her mind was awhirl with thoughts. What did it mean? Was Snape in a lot of pain? What was he trying to do? Holly felt pretty sure that Snape hadn't let in that troll, but then who had? What _was_ that dog guarding?

Holly returned her book to Madam Pince, who scrutinized it intently, checking to see if any damage had been done. She then browsed for a while, until she realized it was getting dark. As Holly exited the library, she heard a voice.

"Ah – Miss Smith. I was looking for you."

Holly turned. "Professor Dumbledore. What is it?"

"Please come with me, Miss Smith."

Shrugging, Holly followed Professor Dumbledore as they made their way down the spiral staircases, ending up in the dungeons. As they walked down the corridor, Professor Dumbledore spoke quietly.

"Do you remember, Miss Smith, what you told me on a dark night in front of Professor Snape's quarters?"

"Yes," Holly answered, feeling a blush creep onto her cheeks.

"Well, I believe you may be of use, if you still wish to be. Ah – here we are."

They were in front of Snape's quarters. Dumbledore entered, Holly slipping into the room behind him. There wasn't much. There was a small fireplace set into one wall, while to the side there was a counter and a glass cabinet. The cabinet held a few glasses and a number of bottles of what – it seemed to Holly – was whiskey or brandy. In a corner was a bed with one pillow and a thin cover crumpled at the end. A door in one wall led to a suspected bathroom. Next to the bed was a small dresser which Holly imagined contained clothes. There were two chairs situated in front of the fire and a voice emerged from one of these.

"May I enquire as to why you brought Miss Smith, Headmaster?"

It was Snape. As they entered into the room and moved to view the armchairs, Holly saw him. Snape was sitting in one armchair, holding a glass of whiskey in his hand. It was mostly gone. His black hair partially hid his face, as the flames caused shadows to shift over him. He had been staring heavily into the fire, but now his eyes coolly flickered over Holly before looking at Dumbledore.

"You expressed a wish to me, I believe, Severus," Dumbledore replied calmly.

"I thought possibly magic. Not this." Snape said curtly.

"It is the best way, Severus. As a friend, Miss Smith will be at generally the same places and she is most reliable. She can be trusted to keep a secret **and** her tongue."

Snape's eyes flickered over to Holly again.

"How? You want I should tell everything?" Snape asked, and there was a flash of pain in his voice for a second.

"I don't think –" Dumbledore started, but Holly interrupted.

"Excuse me, Professor Dumbledore," she said quietly, "but I would like to say something. Professor Snape, you don't need to tell me everything or even anything, really. Just tell me the basics I need to know in order to help you."

Snape looked at her in silence, and then spoke.

"Very well, Miss Smith. If you truly wish to – help – me, then I accept. I need you to promise though that one: you will not unduly pry into my affairs, and two: you will keep _**all of this**_ a secret."

Holly looked seriously at Snape, her ivy-green eyes meeting Snape's ebony ones.

"I understand. As strange as the idea must sound, I do wish to help in any way I am able to help. I promise not to nose about, and I promise to keep all of this a secret."

After Holly finished, Dumbledore spoke up as Snape glanced at him.

"Very well. Miss Smith, this is the crux of your assignment – keep Mr. Potter safe."

"Ha –" Holly started to ask, but then quickly stopped and nodded.

"I understand that you can't always protect him, but as much as you are able, make sure to be there for Mr. Potter."

"Protect Harry. Got it."

"Also, Miss Smith, just for tonight, there is one more thing. Professor Snape has hurt his leg and your pre-test, as it is, is to bandage that leg."

Holly swallowed and nodded. She knew what the real "pre-test" was – mainly, if she could be trusted to carry out an assignment without allowing her emotions to interfere.

The robes were pulled up, bandages conjured and, with water, the wound cleaned. As Holly wrapped the leg in white bandage, she made sure to be extra-careful in order not to cause any extra pain. After she finished, she carefully lowered the robes over the leg and asked.

"Are you able to stand on it, Professor?"

Snape slowly stood up, his free hand using Holly's shoulder as a support while rising. He limped over to the other chair and sat back down, wincing slightly.

"It holds."

Holly exhaled in relief. "Oh, good."

She may have imagined it, but it seemed like Snape's eyes widened in surprise for a second. She faced Dumbledore.

"Is that all, Professor? Or is there anything else?"

Dumbledore smiled at her. "No, there is nothing else. You may return to your house. Good night, Miss Smith."

"Good night, sir." She turned to Snape and smiled softly. "Good night, Professor Snape."

After she left, Snape turned to Dumbledore.

"Why did you choose Miss Smith, Headmaster?" _Why would she want to help a hated teacher like me?_

"Miss Smith had a similar childhood as yours, Severus. She wasn't physically abused, but her parents have systematically ignored her as much as possible. She has had to mature quite quickly and has a heightened intelligence." _She sees things others don't, and her nature allows for a unique kindness._

And Snape realized that there was something Holly had that others of her age didn't.

**Hana:** okay, I added in at the end a bit of Snape's POV. Mainly because I'm going to have to start using it quite a lot in the later books, so I might as well practice now. Hope you like it. Mainly the books are going to be in Holly's POV, though.


	15. The Bothersome Broom

The Bothersome Broom

**Hana:** I have the chance to type this chapter, so everybody gets to read a third chapter. Yay! By the way, I am on a new high, because I have finished finals and I will graduate! So, please review to keep my good mood going! Cyber cookies for everybody!

**Disclaimer:** I don't own any of this, except Holly and Megan. That's fine, b/c I can still write fanfic about them though. *grin*

The next morning dawned very bright and cold. The Great Hall was full of the delicious smell and the cheerful chatter of everyone looking forward to a good Quidditch match. Holly looked worriedly at Harry, who wasn't eating anything.

"Harry?" she asked softly.

"Yeah?"

"You've got to eat some breakfast."

"I don't want anything."

"Just a bit of toast," Hermione wheedled.

"I'm not hungry."

"Harry, you need your strength," said Seamus Finnigan. "Seekers are always the ones who get clobbered by the other team."

"Thanks, Seamus," said Harry, watching Seamus pile ketchup on his sausages.

By eleven o'clock the whole school seemed to be out in the stands around the Quidditch pitch. Many students had binoculars. The seats might be raised high in the air, but it was still difficult to see what was going on sometimes.

Holly, Ron, and Hermione joined Neville, Seamus, and Dean the West Ham fan up in the top row. As a surprise for Harry, they had painted a large banner on one of the sheets Scabbers had ruined. It said Potter for President and Holly had drawn a large Gryffindor lion underneath and painted it in. Then Hermione had performed a tricky little charm so that the paint flashed different colours.

Holly felt both excited and nervous. That morning, she had tried not to act any differently. When she had worked up the courage to sneak a glance at Snape, she saw that he wasn't acting any differently, either. She was jerked out of her thoughts by loud cheers. The teams were walking onto the field, led by their captains. Fifth year Oliver Wood was the captain of the Gryffindor team and their Keeper; Slytherin's team captain was a Chaser, fifth year Marcus Flint. The teams met in the middle and were instructed to shake hands by Madam Hooch, who was refereeing, her broom in her hand. After saying something to the teams, Madam Hooch gave a loud blast on her whistle.

Fifteen brooms rose up, high, high into the air. They were off.

"And the Quaffle is taken immediately by Angelina Johnson of Gryffindor – what an excellent Chaser that girl is, and rather attractive, too –"

"JORDAN!"

"Sorry, Professor."

Holly stifled a grin. Lee was doing the commentary for the match, closely watched by Professor McGonagall.

"And she's really belting along up there, a neat pass to Alicia Spinnet, a good find of Oliver Wood's, last year only a reserve – back to Johnson and – no, the Slytherins have taken the Quaffle, Slytherin Captain Marcus Flint gains the Quaffle and off he goes – Flint flying like an eagle up there – he's going to sc – no, stopped by an excellent move by Gryffindor Keeper Wood and the Gryffindors take the Quaffle."

Holly, who had switched her attention to Wood's save, saw him smirk at Flint. A look passed between them. Lee continued.

"That's Chaser Katie Bell of Gryffindor there, nice dive around Flint, off up the field and – OUCH – that must have hurt, hit in the back of the head by a Bludger – Quaffle taken by the Slytherins – that's Adrian Pucey speeding off toward the goal posts, but he's blocked by a second Bludger – sent his way by Fred or George Weasley, can't tell which – nice play by the Gryffindor Beater, anyway, and Johnson back in possession of the Quaffle, a clear field ahead and off she goes – she's really flying – dodges a speeding Bludger – the goal posts are ahead – come on, now, Angelina – Keeper Bletchley dives – misses – GRYFFINDORS SCORE!"

Gryffindor cheers filled the cold air, with howls and moans from the Slytherins.

"Budge up there, move along."

"Hagrid!"

Holly, Ron, and Hermione squeezed together to give Hagrid enough space to join them.

"Bin watchin' from me hut," said Hagrid, patting a large pair of binoculars around his neck, "But it isn't the same as bein' in the crowd. No sign of the Snitch, yet, eh?"

"Nope," said Ron. "Harry hasn't had much to do yet."

"Kept outta trouble, though, that's somethin'," said Hagrid, raising his binoculars and peering skyward at the speck that was Harry. The others nodded in agreement.

Besides for seeing the look passed between Flint and Wood, Holly had mainly been watching Harry, Dumbledore's words from last night still in her mind. A Bludger had decided to pelt after Harry once, but Harry had dodged it successfully and Fred had beat it away. She kept her eyes on Harry as she listened to the commentary.

"Slytherin in possession," Lee was saying. "Chaser Pucey ducks two Bludgers, two Weasleys, and Chaser Bell, and speeds toward the – wait a moment – was that the Snitch?"

A murmur ran through the crowd as Adrian Pucey dropped the Quaffle, too busy looking over his shoulder at the flash of gold that had passed over his left ear. Holly bit her lip as Harry and Slytherin Seeker Terrence Higgs hurtled neck and neck toward the Snitch – all the Chasers seemed to have forgotten what they were supposed to be doing as they hung in midair to watch –

WHAM! A roar of rage echoed from the Gryffindors below – Holly held her breath – Marcus Flint had blocked Harry on purpose, and Harry's broom spun off course, Harry holding on for dear life. Holly took a shaky breath as Harry righted himself.

"Foul!" screamed the Gryffindors.

Madam Hooch spoke angrily to Flint and then ordered a free shot at the goal posts for Gryffindor. But in all the confusion, of course, the Golden Snitch had disappeared from sight again.

Dean Thomas was yelling at the field, "Send him off, ref! Red card!"

"What are you talking about, Dean?" said Ron.

"Red card!" said Dean furiously. "In soccer you get shown the red card and you're out of the game!"

"But this isn't soccer, Dean," Ron reminded him.

Hagrid, however, was on Dean's side.

"They oughta change the rules. Flint coulda knocked Harry outta the air."

Holly listened; Lee was finding it difficult not to take sides.

"So – after that obvious and disgusting bit of cheating –"

"Jordan!" growled Professor McGonagall.

"I mean, after that open and revolting foul –"

"_Jordan, I'm warning you_ –"

"All right, all right. Flint nearly _kills_ the Gryffindor Seeker, which could happen to anyone, I'm sure, so a penalty to Gryffindor, taken by Spinnet, who puts it away, no trouble, and we continue play, Gryffindor still in possession."

As Holly watched, Harry's broom started behaving strangely. It was zigzagging through the air, and every now and then making violent swishing movements that almost unseated him. Holly thought frantically. What could she do? She turned to Hagrid quickly.

"Hagrid, look at Harry. Something's wrong!"

As Hagrid looked through his binoculars, Holly brought Harry to the attention of the others. Lee was still commentating.

"Slytherin in possession – Flint with the Quaffle – passes Spinnet – passes Bell – hit hard in the face by a Bludger, hope it broke his nose – only joking, Professor – Slytherins score – oh, no …."

The Slytherins were cheering. No one seemed to have noticed that Harry's broom was behaving strangely. It was carrying him slowly higher, away from the game, jerking and twitching as it went.

"Dunno what Harry thinks he's doing," Hagrid mumbled. He stared through his binoculars. "If I didn't know better, I'd say he lost control of his broom … but he can't have …"

Suddenly, people were pointing up at Harry all over the stands. His broom had started to roll over and over, with him only just managing to hold on. Then the whole crowd gasped. Harry's broom had given a wild jerk and Harry swung off it. He was now dangling from it, holding on with only one hand.

"Did something happen to it when Flint blocked him?" Holly whispered unsteadily. She was terrified. Only last night, she had promised Snape to protect Harry and now _this_ was happening.

"Can't have," Hagrid said, his voice shaking. "Can't nothing interfere with a broomstick except powerful Dark Magic – no kid could do that to a Nimbus Two Thousand."

At these words, Hermione seized Hagrid's binoculars, but instead of looking up at Harry, she started looking frantically at the crowd.

"What are you doing?" moaned Ron, grey-faced.

"I knew it," Hermione gasped, "Snape – look."

Holly took the offered binoculars. Snape was in middle of the stands opposite them. He had his eyes fixed on Harry and was muttering nonstop under his breath. Holly gave the binoculars to Ron, who grabbed them to look. Holly wondered how she might help Snape, knowing he was trying to save Harry.

"He's doing something – jinxing the broom," said Hermione.

"What should we do?" Ron asked.

"Leave it to me."

Before Holly could say anything, Hermione had disappeared. They turned the binoculars back on Harry. His broom was vibrating so hard, it was almost impossible for him to hang on much longer. The whole crowd was on its feet, watching, terrified, as the Weasleys flew up to try and pull Harry safely onto one of their brooms, but it was no good – every time they got near him, the broom would jump higher still. They dropped lower and circled beneath him, obviously hoping to catch him if he fell. Marcus Flint seized the Quaffle and scored five times without anyone noticing.

"Come on, Hermione," Ron muttered desperately. Holly looked at him for a minute and then looked back at Harry.

"Come on, Snape," Holly thought fiercely.

Evidently, her silent prayer worked. Suddenly, Harry was able to clamber back on to his broom.

"Neville, you can look!" Ron said. Neville had been sobbing into Hagrid's jacket for the last five minutes.

Harry was speeding toward the ground when Holly and the crowd saw him clap his hand to his mouth as though he was about to be sick – he hit the field on all fours – coughed – and something gold fell into his hand.

"I've got the Snitch!" he shouted, waving it about his head, and the game ended in complete confusion.

"He didn't _catch_ it, he nearly _swallowed_ it," Flint was still howling twenty minutes later, but it made no difference – Harry hadn't broken any rules and Lee Jordan was still happy shouting the results – Gryffindor had won by one hundred and seventy points to sixty. Harry heard none of this, though. He was being made a cup of strong tea back in Hagrid's hut, with Holly, Ron and Hermione.

"It was Snape," Ron was explaining, "We saw him. He was cursing your broomstick, muttering, he wouldn't take his eyes off you."

"Rubbish," said Hagrid, who hadn't heard a word of what had gone on next to him in the stands. "Why would Snape do somethin' like that?" 

They looked at one another, wondering what to tell him. Harry decided on the truth.

"I found out something about him," he told Hagrid. "He tried to get past that three-headed dog on Halloween. It bit him. We think he was trying to steal whatever it's guarding."

Hagrid dropped the teapot.

"How do you know about Fluffy?" he said. Holly blinked.

"_Fluffy_?"

"Yeah – he's mine – bought him off a Greek chappie I met in the pub las' year – I lent him to Dumbledore to guard the –"

"Yes?" said Harry eagerly.

"Now, don't ask me anymore," said Hagrid gruffly. "That's top secret, that is."

"But Snape's trying to _steal_ it."

"Rubbish," said Hagrid again. "Snape's a Hogwarts teacher, he'd do nothin' of the sort."

"So why did he just try and kill Harry?" cried Hermione.

Holly exhaled slowly, making sure that the others didn't notice.

The afternoon's events certainly seemed to have changed Hermione's mind about Snape.

"I know a jinx when I see one, Hagrid," Hermione continued. "I've read all about them! You've got to keep eye contact, and Snape wasn't blinking at all, I saw him!"

"I'm tellin' yeh, yer wrong!" said Hagrid hotly. "I don' know why Harry's broom acted like that, but Snape wouldn' try an' kill a student! Now, listen to me, all four of yeh – yer meddlin' in things that don' concern yeh. It's dangerous. You forget that dog, an' you forget what it's guardin', that's between Professor Dumbledore and Nicolas Flamel—"

"Aha!" said Harry, "so there's someone called Nicolas Flamel involved, is there?"

Hagrid looked furious with himself.

Holly had been silent this whole time and hadn't said anything. She couldn't.

**Hana: **And on we go. What new things await our heroine? By the way, I've decided to make some small changes in this fic. Here are the WARNINGS: There will be slash, yaoi (man x man), there will be twincest (incest, Fred x George Weasley), and there will be references to girl slash (girl x girl).


	16. Christmas Gifts

**Christmas Gifts**

Hana: Here are the next two chapters! I swear, I've _**got**_ to stop procrastinating and actually start writing more of this fanfic! (Why do I keep writing one-shots and other stories when I have to work on this one…?) And I don't want to do this disclaimer. But whoever has a pet Balrog, I'll buy it!

Voldemort: Wrong story! How dare you put LOTR in HP? CRUCIO!

Hana: /starts screaming in pain/

Bellatrix: Stop torturing her, she likes the idea of us as a pair!

Voldemort: Oh. /stops torturing Hana – starts to embrace Bellatrix/

Hana: /sits gasping for air/ (not helped by the fact that Snape has his hands on her shoulders)

Sirius's mom: YOU'RE ALL FILTHY BLOOD TRAITORS!

Sirius: SHUT UP! /pulls curtain over picture/

Megan: Yeah, shut up!

Holly: /starts doing the can-can with Percy and Flint/ Snape comes over to join, whereupon Boromir tends to Hana, instead. (why is he here?)

JKR: What are you doing to my characters? I'll do the disclaimer! I own everything, except Holly and Megan, which are owned by Hana. Thank Merlin, I don't own her …

Hana: what do you mean by that?

Holly: Yeah! /everyone gangs up on JKR with pitchforks and torches/

JKR: /*gulp* runs away screaming/

Balrog: Just read the story people and ignore them.

Christmas was coming. One morning in mid-December, Hogwarts woke to find itself covered in several feet of snow. The lake froze solid and the Weasley twins were punished for bewitching several snowballs so that they followed Quirrell around, bouncing off the back of his turban. The few owls that managed to battle their way through the stormy sky to deliver mail had to be nursed back to health by Hagrid before they could fly off again.

No one could wait for the holidays to start. While the Gryffindor common room and the Great Hall had roaring fires, the drafty corridors had become icy and a bitter wind rattled the windows in the classes down in the dungeons, where their breath rose in a mist before them and they kept as close as possible to their hot cauldrons.

"I do feel so sorry," said Draco Malfoy, one Potions class, "for all those people who have to stay at Hogwarts for Christmas because they're not wanted at home."

He was looking over at Harry as he spoke. Crabbe and Goyle chuckled. Harry, who was measuring out powdered spine of lionfish, ignored them. Holly studied Malfoy for a moment before turning back to her chopped up roots. Malfoy had been even more unpleasant than usual since the Quidditch match. Disgusted that the Slytherins had lost, he had tried to get everyone laughing at how a wide-mouthed tree frog would be replacing Harry as Seeker next. Then he'd realized that nobody found this funny, because they were all so impressed at the way Harry had managed to stay on his bucking broomstick. So Malfoy, jealous and angry, had gone back to taunting Harry about having no proper family.

It was true that Harry wasn't going back to Privet Drive for Christmas. Professor McGonagall had come around the week before, making a list of students who would be staying for the holidays, and Harry had signed up at once. Ron and his brothers, too, because Mr. and Mrs. Weasley were going to Romania to visit Charlie. Holly sighed. She'd been looking forward to seeing Megan and her mom.

However, when Harry had signed up, she had also, her promise to Dumbledore echoing in her head. She also stayed because she had decided to give a gift to Snape. She had drawn a picture of him by the feast. She just didn't know how to give it ….

When they left the dungeons at the end of Potions, they found a large fir tree blocking the corridor ahead. Two enormous feet sticking out at the bottom and a loud puffing sound told them that Hagrid was behind it.

"Hi, Hagrid, want any help?" Ron asked, sticking his head through the branches.

"Nah, I'm all right, thanks, Ron."

"You sure?" Holly said.

"Yah, thank ye, Holly."

"Would you mind moving out of the way?" came Malfoy's cold drawl from behind them. "Are you trying to earn some extra money, Weasley? Hoping to be gamekeeper yourself when you leave Hogwarts, I suppose — that hut of Hagrid's must seem like a palace compared to what your family's used to."

Ron dived at Malfoy just as Snape came up the stairs.

"WEASLEY!"

Ron let go of the front of Malfoy's robes. Snape glided up to them, coming to a stop right next to Holly, who glanced up at him. Snape's eyes met hers before resting again on Ron.

"He was provoked, Professor Snape," said Hagrid, sticking his huge hairy face out from behind the tree. "Malfoy was insultin' his family."

"Be that as it may, fighting is against Hogwarts rules, Hagrid," said Snape silkily. "Five points from Gryffindor, Weasley, and be grateful it isn't more. Move along, all of you."

Malfoy, Crabbe and Goyle pushed roughly past the tree, scattering needles everywhere and smirking.

"I'll get him," said Ron, grinding his teeth at Malfoy's back, "one of these days, I'll get him –"

"I hate them both," said Harry, "Malfoy and Snape."

"Come on, cheer up, it's nearly Christmas," said Hagrid. "Tell yeh what, come with me an' see the Great Hall, looks a treat."

So the four of them followed Hagrid and his tree off to the Great Hall, where Professor McGonagall and Professor Flitwick were busy with the Christmas decorations.

"Ah, Hagrid, the last tree – put it in the far corner, would you?"

The hall looked spectacular. Festoons of holly and mistletoe hung all around the walls, and no less than 12 towering Christmas trees stood around the room, some sparkling with tiny icicles, some glittering with hundreds of candles.

"How many days you got left until yer holidays?" Hagrid asked.

"Just one," said Hermione. "And that reminds me – Harry, Ron, Holly, we've got half an hour before lunch, we should be in the library."

"Oh yeah, you're right," said Ron, tearing his eyes away from Professor Flitwick, who had golden bubbles blossoming out of his wand and was trailing them over the branches of the new tree.

"The library?" asked Hagrid, following them out of the hall. "Just before the holidays? Bit keen, aren't yeh?"

"Oh, we're not working," Harry told him brightly. "Ever since you mentioned Nicolas Flamel, we've been trying to find out who he is."

"You _what_?" Hagrid looked shocked. "Listen here – I've told yeh – drop it. It's nothin' to you what that dog's guardin'."

"We just want to know who Nicolas Flamel is, that's all," said Holly.

"Unless you'd like to tell us and save us the trouble?" Harry added. "We must've been through hundreds of books already and we can't find him anywhere – just give us a hint – I know I've read his name somewhere."

"I'm sayin' nothin'," said Hagrid flatly.

"Just have to find out for ourselves, then," said Ron, and they left Hagrid looking disgruntled and hurried off to the library.

They had indeed been searching books for Flamel's name ever since Hagrid had let it slip, because how else were they going to find out what 'Snape' was trying to steal? The trouble was, it was very hard to know where to begin, not knowing what Flamel might have done to get himself in a book. He wasn't in _Great Wizards of the Twentieth Century_, or _Notable Magical Names of Our Time_; he was missing, too, from _Important Modern Magical Discoveries_, and _A Study of Recent Developments in Wizardry_. And then, of course, there was the sheer size of the library; tens of thousands of books; thousands of shelves; hundreds of narrow rows.

Hermione took out a list of subjects and titles she had decided to search while Ron strode off down a row of books and started pulling them off the shelves at random. Harry wandered over towards the Restricted Section and Holly went off into one aisle. At a table, she saw Angelina Johnson, Alicia Spinnet, and Katie Bell studying at one table. Turning a corner, she saw Lee, who asked, startled.

"Hey, Holly. What's up?"

Holly thought quickly. She obviously couldn't tell Lee the _real_ reason she was in the library ….

"Actually, I heard you were here. I needed to ask you something."

Lee looked bemused. "Ask away."

Holly decided to ask a real question she had.

"I was wondering – if I wanted to give gifts to my friends here for Christmas, how would I do that here at Hogwarts?"

Lee smiled. "Leave your gifts, wrapped, in a pile at the foot of your bed with labels of who they're meant for attached to each present. Don't worry, they'll be delivered to the people they're meant for."

The bell rang. "Thanks, Lee!" Holly said and joined Ron and Hermione. Leaving the library, they joined Harry (who had gotten kicked out) and went off to lunch. None of them had found anything.

"You will keep looking while I'm away, won't you?" said Hermione. "And send me an owl if you find anything."

"And you could ask your parents if they know who Flamel is," said Ron. "It'd be safe to ask them."

"Very safe, as they're both dentists," said Hermione.

Once the holidays had started, Holly, Ron, and Harry were having too good a time to think much about Flamel. They had the dormitory to themselves and the common room was far emptier than usual, so they were able to get the good armchairs by the fire. Ron and Harry sat by the hour eating anything they could spear off a toasting fork – bread, English muffins, marshmallows – and plotting ways of getting Malfoy expelled, which were fun to talk about even if they wouldn't work. Holly sent her Christmas gift to Megan through Amber, although it wouldn't be unwrapped until Christmas Day. The gift was a book of sketches and drawings of Hogwarts – teachers, students, classes, stairs, and more. Holly knew Megan would like it. In the meantime, she talked with Harry and Ron, read in the library, and watched Ron teach Harry wizard chess.

Wizard chess was, Holly found out, exactly like Muggle chess except that the figures were alive, which made it a lot like directing troops in battle. Ron's set was very old and battered. This, however, was shown to be an advantage. Ron knew them so well he never had trouble getting them to do what he wanted. The result? Harry lost – again and again and again.

On Christmas Eve, Holly went to bed looking forward to the next day for the food and the fun, but a bit nervous about her gifts to everyone. As a result, she woke before daylight and saw a small pile of presents at the end of her bed. Holly quietly got dressed and then sat on her bed to open her gifts.

Mrs. Riley had sent her a homemade cake (yum!), and Megan had written a _long_ letter and knitted her a soft blue scarf. Her parents, of course, sent nothing.

The twins had given her a professional sketchbook. Lee, in accordance with the twins' gift, gave her a set of coloured pencils and sketch-pencils.

Hermione had ordered in two Muggle books: _Tips and Tricks for Handling Homework_ and _The True Confessions of Charlotte Doyle_ by Avi.

Ron had written a note and put it with a dozen chocolates (helped, he wrote, by Fred and George).

Harry's gift was two bottles of shampoo, ordered from the Muggle world (with evidently, Hermione's help). Holly smiled at this; Harry must have heard her complain that she was getting low.

Hagrid sent up a platter of rock cakes. Holly decided to throw them out, although she was tempted to keep them in case she ever needed ammunition.

After she put away her gifts, Holly went down to the Common Room and, a bit nervously, went up to Harry's dormitory. Coming in, she saw Harry and Ron about to open their gifts. Ron looked at her.

"What on earth are you doing here?"

Holly blushed. "Sorry. I just wanted to thank you guys for your gifts and I forgot it was so early in the morning."

"It's okay," Harry assured her.

"Ok. Thank you, by the way."

"You're welcome."

"Can I see you guys open your gifts?"

"Sure," Harry answered. Holly leaned on against the wall in between their two beds.

Harry picked up his top parcel. It was wrapped in thick brown paper and scrawled across it was _To Harry from Hagrid_. Inside was a roughly cut wooden flute. Hagrid had obviously whittled it himself. Harry blew it – it sounded a bit like an owl.

A second, very small parcel contained a note.

_We receive your message and enclose your Christmas present. From Uncle Vernon and Aunt Petunia_. Taped to the note was a fifty-pence piece.

"That's friendly," said Harry. As Ron took the money, Holly whispered to Harry.

"Better, I suppose, than not getting anything."

Ron was fascinated by the fifty pence.

"_Weird_!" he said, "What a shape! This is _money_?"

"You can keep it," said Harry, laughing at how pleased Ron was. "Hagrid and my aunt and uncle – so who sent these?"

"I think I know who that one's from," said Ron, turning a bit pink and pointing to a very lumpy parcel. "My mom. I told her you didn't expect any presents and – oh, no," he groaned, "She's made you a Weasley sweater."

Harry had torn open the parcel to find a thick, hand-knitted sweater in emerald green and a large box of homemade fudge.

"Every year she makes us a sweater," said Ron, unwrapping his own, "and mine's _always_ maroon."

"That's really nice of her," said Harry, trying the fudge, which was very tasty.

Ron and Harry both picked Holly's gifts, which were wrapped in red and gold paper, next. Holly admitted they were hers.

Ron tore open his parcel to find drawings of him at different times.

Harry's gift from Holly consisted of a drawing of him on his broom catching the Snitch in one hand.

"Wow. Thanks, Holly!" both chorused.

Holly ducked her head. "You're welcome."

Harry's next present contained candy – a large box of Chocolate Frogs from Hermione.

This only left one parcel. Harry picked and felt it. It was very light. He unwrapped it.

Something fluid and silvery gray slid to the floor. Ron gasped.

"I've heard of those," he said in a hushed voice, dropping the box of Every Flavor Beans he'd gotten from Hermione. "If that's what I think it is – they're really rare, and _really_ valuable."

"What is it?" Holly asked curiously, watching Harry pick up the cloth from the floor.

"It's an invisibility cloak," said Ron, a look of awe on his face. "I'm sure it is – try it on."

Harry threw the cloak around his shoulders. Holly stared in amazement at Harry. His head was floating in mid-air and the rest of his body was, true to the name, invisible. Ron gave a yell.

"It is! Look down!"

Harry looked down at his invisible feet and then dashed to the mirror. Holly saw that his reflection was also invisible. Harry then put the cloak over his head and he completely vanished.

"There's a note!" said Ron suddenly. "A note fell out of it!"

Harry pulled off the cloak and seized the letter, which had fallen by Holly. She looked at the note with Harry. The writing was in a narrow, loopy, cursive hand. The note read thus:

Your father left this in my possession before he died. It is time it was returned to you. Use it well.

A Very Merry Christmas to you.

There was no signature. Holly pondered this as Harry stared at the note. Ron was busy admiring the cloak.

"I'd give anything for one of these," he said. "_Anything_. What's the matter?" (this last addressed to Harry.)

"Nothing," said Harry quietly. Holly shot him a glance, but suddenly the dormitory door was flung open and Fred and George burst in with wide grins. Harry stuffed the cloak quickly out of sight.

"Merry Christmas!"

"Hey, look – Harry's got a Weasley sweater, too!"

Fred and George wore blue sweaters, one with a large yellow F on it, the other a G.

"Harry's is better than ours, though," said Fred, holding up Harry's sweater. "She obviously makes more of an effort if you're not family."

"Why aren't you wearing yours, Ron?" George demanded. "Come on, get it on, they're lovely and warm."

"I hate maroon," Ron moaned half-heartedly as he pulled it over his head. He emerged from the top with his hair all tousled.

"You haven't got a letter on yours," George observed. "I suppose she thinks you don't forget your name. But we're not stupid – we know we're called Gred and Forge."

"What's all this noise?"

Percy Weasley stuck his head through the door, looking disapproving. He had clearly gotten half-way through unwrapping his presents as he, too, carried a lumpy sweater over his arm, which Fred seized.

"P for prefect! Get it on, Percy, come on, we're all wearing ours, even Harry got one."

"I – don't – want –" said Percy thickly, as the twins forced the sweater over his head, knocking his glasses askew. Holly's smile grew wider as she watched the struggle.

"And you're not sitting with the prefects today, either," said George. "Christmas is a time for family."

They frog-marched Percy from the room, his arms pinned to his side by his sweater. Grinning, the others followed them to the Common Room.

**Hana:** Well, I hope you like this. All reviewers get pizza! **:** D and I appreciate all reviews, even if I don't respond!


	17. Christmas Wish

**Christmas Wish**

JKR: Ha, ha! I escaped them! /everyone appears panting/ or not ...

/ runs away, but is stopped by Holly who conjures a cage around her./

Holly: That's better!

JKR: /rattles bars and gives death glare/

Hana: Now that our favorite author is safely behind bars, we can do the disclaimer. Who's up?

*DEAD SILENCE*

Hana: No one? I command you!

Ron: We don't have to do what you say!

Hana: Yes you do! You are all characters. Each of you is bound to this authoress, this one girl.

Aragorn: I'll do it, although you butchered Lord Elrond's line.

Hana: /glomps Aragorn/

Arwen: /arrives and starts to fight with Hana, Aragorn tries to make peace/

Lupin: I'll do it. JKR owns it all, except Holly & Megan who are owned by Hana.

Harry: *sigh* at least someone did it. Enjoy the chapter, folks! /starts to run after Voldy/

Voldemort: ARGH! /runs screaming/

It was a _wonderful_ Christmas day. During the morning, everyone was thanking for each other for the presents they got and lunch was delicious. Late afternoon found Holly sitting in a small alcove by the Owlery. She glanced at her watch. She had twenty minutes to meet Harry, Lee, and the Weasleys by the Hall for dinner.

She glanced at her sketches. She was quite proud of them. She had just closed her sketchbook when she heard footsteps. In a moment, around the corner came Snape, who paused when he saw Holly. Holly, for her part, quickly stood up.

"Professor Snape! I'm sorry – I can leave if you need this space. I didn't realize –"

"Miss Smith," Snape interrupted, "calm yourself. I needed to say something to you."

"Me?" Holly asked, pointing at herself.

"Yes, you. The Headmaster and I have talked and I realized I never –" Snape paused, biting back what he wanted to say. _I never told you about my past, I never let you in, how could you capture the pain I was feeling in your drawing?_ He continued, "—well, thank you for your gift."

Holly stared in astonishment. _Snape_ was thanking her? Catching her look, Snape turned to the window abruptly.

"Don't expect this. Your drawing was just very well done, that's all."

Holly quickly closed her mouth.

"You're welcome. If you will excuse me sir, I need to be at dinner in fifteen minutes."

Snape stood silent for a few moments, then turned to her.

"You won't make it in time. Follow me."

Holly walked behind Snape as he led her down the corridor to a tapestry of Merlin standing by King Arthur and his Round Table. Snape stood directly in front of Merlin and said, "Morgana's Magic." At this, an opening appeared where Merlin had stood, showing a secret slide. Snape entered and held himself by the edges of the opening. Snape spoke over his shoulder to Holly.

"This will take us to the Dining Hall in time to meet your friends. This slide is too thin to sit, so you will have to stand. However, it is too dangerous to go down if there is more than one of you. Therefore, Miss Smith, please hold my waist."

Holly nodded and put her arms around Snape's waist at her shoulder-level. Snape then let go where he had been holding and off they went. Air rushed by them and as they neared a curve, Snape called out.

"You may want to hold on, Miss Smith!"

Holly hugged tighter and closed her eyes. Suddenly, she felt a small bump. They had stopped. Snape's harsh voice was heard.

"Miss Smith, let go of me."

Holly quickly complied, blushing slightly.

"Now," Snape said, "you can go out and into the hall. No one must know or suspect of our agreement."

Holly nodded. "Thank – thank you, sir."

Snape just tipped his head slightly as Holly slipped out past another tapestry to join her friends for dinner.

Holly had never had such a Christmas dinner in all her life. A hundred fat, roast turkeys; mountains of roast and boiled potatoes; platters of chipolatas; tureens of buttered peas, silver boats of thick, rich gravy and cranberry sauce – and stacks of wizard crackers every few feet along the table. When pulled, they let out a blast like a cannon and engulfed the table with clouds of blue smoke as the favors appeared. Up at the High Table, Dumbledore had swapped his pointed wizard's hat for a flowered bonnet, and was chuckling merrily at a joke Professor Flitwick had just read him.

Flaming Christmas puddings followed the turkey. Percy nearly broke his teeth on a silver sickle embedded in one slice. Holly, glancing up at the High Table, saw Hagrid getting redder and redder in the face as he called for more wine, finally kissing Professor McGonagall on the cheek. Amazingly enough, Professor McGonagall giggled and blushed, her top hat lopsided. Professor Snape was quiet enough, silently going the feast. Holly glanced at him, but looked away when Snape returned the gaze.

Holly spent the early evening with Harry, Lee and the Weasleys (except Percy). They had a marvelous time having a furious snowball fight on the grounds, Lee and the twins teaming up against Harry, Ron, and Holly. Then, cold, wet, and gasping for breath, they returned to the fire in the Gryffindor common room. Once back, Harry broke in his new wizard chess set (from a wizard cracker) by losing spectacularly to Ron. Holly read _The History of Hispanic Harpies_ by _Phineus Argon_.

Afterwards, everone felt too full and sleepy to do much before bed except sit and watch Percy chase Fred and George all over Gryffindor tower because they'd stolen his best badge. However, people did trickle off to bed, including Holly.

The next morning, Holly found out something extra-ordinary at breakfast. Last night, Harry had donned his invisibility cloak and gone to the Restricted section in the library. Almost caught by Filch and Snape, he had run into an empty classroom only to find an old mirror. Not just any old mirror, though. This one had shown Harry his whole family. Carved around the top of the top of the ornate gold frame was this inscription: _Erised stra ehru oyt ube capra oyt on wahsi_. As Harry told his story to them, there was a certain note in his voice that warned Holly he'd probably go back that night. Holly made up her mind to join him. It was too dangerous to attempt alone. Harry finished his story and Ron spoke up.

"You could have woken me up," he said crossly.

"You can both (indicating Ron and Holly) come tonight, I'm going back, I want to show you the mirror."

"I'd like to see your mom and dad," Ron said eagerly.

"And I want to see all your family, _all_ the Weasleys, you'll be able to show us your older brothers and everyone," Harry replied.

"You can see them any old time," said Ron. "Just come round my house this summer. Anyway, maybe it only shows dead people. Shame about not finding Flamel, though. Have some bacon or something. Why aren't you eating anything?"

"Are you all right?" asked Holly quietly. "You look odd."

"Yeah," said Harry, shaking his slightly. "You'll come tonight, right? I want to see your family."

Holly's smile tightened, painfully. "I don't think you do." She glanced at the Head Table and her eyes flashed on Snape for a split-second before she looked straight at Harry. "However, I will definitely come with you two tonight. I would love to see your family and Ron's, as well. But only if you eat something!"

Harry couldn't help but smile.

"All right, all right. Here – split a roll?"

"Sure," Holly replied, hiding her relief.

That night, the three of them set off underneath Harry's invisibility cloak. They had to travel quite slowly, and Harry seemed to be having trouble finding the room. They tried retracing Harry's route from the library, wandering around the dark passage ways for nearly an hour.

"I'm freezing," said Ron. "Let's forget it and go back."

"Yes, why not?" asked Holly.

"_No!_" Harry hissed. "I know it's here somewhere."

They passed the ghost of a tall witch gliding in the opposite direction, but saw no one else. Just as Ron started moaning that his feet were dead with cold, Harry spotted the suit of armor.

"It's here – just here – yes!"

They pushed the door open. Harry dropped the cloak from around his shoulders and ran to the mirror. As he stared into the mirror, Holly walked up with Ron. However, she only saw Harry.

"See?" Harry whispered.

"I can't see anything," Ron said. Harry spoke to Holly.

"Holly – you?" "I'm afraid not."

"But – look! Look at them all … there are loads of them …."

"I can only see you," Ron answered and Holly nodded. Harry turned to Ron.

"Look in it properly, go on, stand where I am."

Harry stepped aside and Ron stepped in front of the mirror, where Harry stood only a moment before. Holly now saw Ron, dressed in his paisley pajamas. He stood transfixed, staring at his image.

"Look at me!" he said.

"Can you see all your family standing around you?" Holly asked.

"No –" answered Ron, "I'm alone – but I'm different – I look older – and I'm head boy!"

"_What?_" Harry ejaculated.

"I am – I'm wearing the badge like Bill used to – and I'm holding the house cup and Quidditch cup – I'm Quidditch captain, too!"

Ron tore his eyes away from this splendid sight to look excitedly at them.

"Do you think this mirror shows the future?"

"How can it?" retorted Harry. "All my family are dead – let me have another look –"

"You had it to yourself all last night, give me a bit more time."

As the two started to argue, Holly stepped forward, intending to try and inject peace. The mirror caught her eye, though, and she turned to look.

She stood in the mirror, but older and more mature. Her hair was longer and wavy. Behind her stood Dumbledore, Mrs. Riley, and Meg, all smiling. Next to her, looking as real as life, stood Snape.

As she watched, speechless, Snape put his arm around her image's waist and planted a fond kiss on her cheek. A powerful longing rose in her, and dimly, she heard Ron and Harry.

"You're only holding the Quidditch cup, what's interesting about that? I want to see my parents."

"Don't push me –"

A sudden noise outside in the corridor put an end to the boys' discussion. They hadn't realized how loudly they had been talking. Holly tore her eyes away from that _wonderful_ image and hurried over to the boys, crying "Quick!"

Ron threw the cloak back over them as the luminous eyes of Mrs. Norris cam round the door. They stood quite still, all thinking the same thing – did the cloak work on cats? After what seemed an age, she turned and left.

"This isn't safe," Holly observed. "She might have gone for Filch, I bet she heard us. Come on."

And they pulled Harry from the room.

The snow still hadn't melted the next morning.

"Want to play chess, Harry?" said Ron.

"No."

"Why don't we go down and visit Hagrid?" Holly asked.

"No … you two go …."

"I know what you're thinking about, Harry," said Ron, "that mirror. Don't go back tonight."

"Why not?"

"I dunno, I've just got a bad feeling about it – and anyway, you've had too many close shaves already. Filch, Snape, and Mrs. Norris are wandering around. So what if they can't see you? What if they walk into you? What if you knock something over?"

"You sound like Hermione," Harry complained.

"I'm serious, Harry, don't go."

Harry didn't respond. Holly studied him as they finished breakfast. The only thought in his head was the mirror – that much was obvious. She could go with him tonight, but – she couldn't stop him completely.

Throughout the day, Holly thought over options. By dinner, she'd made her choice, picking the only possible option that would be effective.

During dinner, she had glanced at Dumbledore a few times. As she left the Hall afterwards, something brushed her hand and she found herself holding a slip of paper. She managed to leave the others and opened the paper. It read:

Miss Smith,

Please come to the empty Transfigurations classroom promptly.

Professor Dumbledore

Quickly, Holly started upstairs and soon found herself at the classroom. Slipping in, she saw Dumbledore, who turned towards her as she closed the door.

"Ah, Miss Smith. I'm glad to see you got my note."

"Yes. Why did you wish to see me, sir?"

"That was what I wanted to ask you. I noticed your glances during dinner. So, pray tell me, what is the matter?"

Holly hesitated. This wouldn't be easy. She decided to start with the mirror.

"Sir, in an empty room here … is a mirror. And –"

"You, Mr. Potter, and Mr. Weasley have found it."

Holly blinked. "How did you know, sir?

"I was there last night. I don't need an cloak to become invisible."

"Well …. I think Harry really likes the mirror …. I mean … what he sees in the mirror. He won't listen to Ron or me and it's too dangerous, so –"

"I was going to speak to Mr. Potter tonight about it. No worries."

Holly smiled. "That's good."

"Miss Smith, what do you think that mirror shows us? Men have wasted away before its images."

"Ummm….." Holly thought.

"Here's a hint. The happiest man on earth would look into the mirror and it would act like a normal mirror."

Holly thought hard. She thought of her own vision.

"It shows Harry his family … who he's never known and Ron – without his family … Maybe? It shows what we most want?"

"Sort of," Dumbledore said, almost inaudibly. "It shows us nothing more or less than the deepest, most desperate desire in our hearts. Harry, who's never known his family, sees them all. Ronald Weasley, who's always been overshadowed by his family sees himself standing alone, the best of all of them."

"I see," Holly murmured.

"Miss Smith – what did you see? I was there and know you saw something in the mirror. May I enquire what it was?" Dumbledore asked, studying Holly. He was a little concerned about the possible relationship between her and Snape. However, the Mirror of Erised showed one's true desire, unclouded by lust or hormones.

Blushing, Holly told Dumbledore what she had seen in the mirror.

" … I think you were there, sir, because I'd chosen you as my father figure. Meg and her mom are like my real family emotionally. Snape – well all I wanted was a real family and someone to love …. um …. romantically, so …" she let herself trail off.

"I understand," Dumbledore said gently. He was relieved, though he didn't show it. He was also touched that he would have appeared in her vision. "Thank you for telling me, Miss Smith. I will talk to Harry tonight. I believe this may be easier if you don't go with him."

Holly bit her lip. "Okay."

"You can go, Miss Smith."

"Goodnight, sir," Holly said as she left the classroom.

The next morning, Harry told Holly and Ron what had happened the night before with Dumbledore. The main point, though, was that Harry wouldn't visit the Mirror of Erised anymore. It also would be moved to a new location.

Holly was glad that the matter had been settled. She looked at Dumbledore up at the Staff table, who was talking to Professor Sprout.

'_What,'_ she wondered, remembering his description of the mirror he'd told her yesterday, _'was his desire? What did he see? What did he want?'_


	18. Finding Flamel

**Hana:** In defense, I'd like to say that we've been having a crazy heat wave (90s, 99% humidity) and all my energy has been sapped. This is also why this disclaimer isn't as kooky. For my past two disclaimers and possible future ones, I take my inspiration from Ala and Tin's story: Legolas is like Marmite. I hope you keep reading. So much for my updating and writing a lot over the summer. Hopefully I'm going to start catching up now. Anyhow, JKR owns it all, except Megan and Holly who belong to ME! You all get free ice-cream (in fav. flavors) and New York Pizza for your patience.

Harry had officially stopped looking for the mirror. However, he started having nightmares. Over and over again he dreamed about his parents disappearing in a flash of green light, while a high voice cackled with daughter.

"You see, Dumbledore was right, that mirror could drive you mad," said Ron, when Harry told them about his dreams. Holly agreed, although she knew in her own mind that her vision was still there, just waiting to pop out and taunt her.

Hermione, who came back the day before term started, took a different view of things. She was torn between horror at the idea of Harry being out of bed, roaming the school three nights in a row ("If Filch had caught you!"), and disappointment that he hadn't at least found out who Nicolas Flamel was.

They had almost given up hope of ever finding Flamel in a library book, even though Harry was still sure he'd read the name somewhere. Once term had started, they were back to skimming through books for ten minutes during their breaks. Harry had even less time than the other three, because Quidditch practice had started again.

Holly was very nervous; she didn't want a repeat of what had occurred last match. Even supposing Harry didn't die of pneumonia. He kept coming back from practice soaked from the endless rain that had replaced the snow.

One afternoon as Harry was out at Quidditch practice, Holly sat watching Ron and Hermione play chess. Chess was the only thing Hermione ever lost at, something the other three thought was very good for her. In the middle of their game, Harry came in and came over to them, an odd expression on his face.

"Don't talk to me for a moment," said Ron when Harry sat down next to him, "I need to concen –" He caught sight of Harry's face. "What's the matter with you? You look terrible."

Speaking quietly so no one else could hear, Harry told the other three something startling: Snape would be refereeing the next Quidditch match.

"_Snape must want to have more power in case Harry's in danger,"_ Holly realized.

"Don't play," said Hermione at once.

"Say you're ill," said Ron.

"Pretend to break your leg," Hermione suggested.

"_Really_ break your leg," said Ron. Holly shot him a look.

"I can't," said Harry. "There isn't a reserve Seeker. If I back out, Gryffindor can't play at all."

At that moment Neville toppled into the common room. How he had managed to climb through the portrait hole was anyone's guess, because his legs had been stuck together with what they recognized at once as the Leg-Locker Curse. He must have had to bunny hop all the way up to Gryffindor tower.

Everyone fell over laughing except Hermione, who leapt up and performed the counter-curse. Neville's legs sprang apart and he got to his feet, trembling.

"What happened?" Hermione asked him, leading him over to sit with the other three.

"Malfoy," said Neville shakily. "I met him outside the library. He said he'd been looking for someone to practice that on."

"Go to Professor McGonagall!" Hermione urged Neville. "Report him!"

Neville shook his head.

"I don't want more trouble," he mumbled.

"You've got to stand up to him, Neville!" said Ron. "He's used to walking all over people, but that's no reason to lie down in front of him and make it easier."

"There's no need to tell me I'm not brave enough to be in Gryffindor, Malfoy's already done that," Neville choked out.

As Holly patted him sympathetically on the back, Harry pulled out a Chocolate Frog. He gave it to Neville, who looked as though he might cry.

"You're worth twelve of Malfoy," Harry said. "The Sorting Hat chose you for Gryffindor, didn't it? And where's Malfoy? In stinking Slytherin."

Neville's lips twitched in a weak smile as he unwrapped the frog.

"Thanks, Harry … I think I'll go to bed … D'you want the card, you collect them, don't you?"

As Neville walked away, Harry looked at the Famous Wizard card.

"Dumbledore again," he said, "He was the first one I ever –"

He gasped. He stared at the back of the card. Then he looked up at Holly, Ron, and Hermione.

"_I've found him!_" he whispered. "I've found Flamel! I _told_ you I'd read the name somewhere before, I read it on the train coming her – listen to this: 'Dumbledore is particularly famous for his defeat of the dark wizard Grindelwald in 1945, for the discovery of the twelve uses of dragon's blood, _and his work on alchemy with his partner, Nicolas Flamel_'!"

Hermione jumped to her feet. She hadn't looked so excited since they'd gotten back the marks for their very first piece of homework.

"Stay there!" she said, and she sprinted up the stairs to the girls' dormitories, as Holly smiled. She thought she knew what Hermione was getting. Ron and Harry barely had time to exchange mystified looks before Hermione was laughing back, an enormous old book in her arms.

"I never thought to look in here!" she whispered excitedly. "I got this out of the library weeks ago for a bit of light reading."

"_Light?_" said Ron, but Hermione told him to be quiet until she'd looked something up, and started flicking frantically through the pages, muttering to herself. Holly patiently waited while Harry looked a bit bewildered, Ron sulking next to him.

At last she found what she was looking for.

"I knew it! I _knew_ it!"

"Are we allowed to speak yet?" said Ron grumpily. Hermione ignored him.

"Nicolas Flamel," she said dramatically, "is the _only known maker of the Sorcerer's Stone_!"

This didn't have quite the effect she'd expected. Holly gasped in recognition, murmuring "Of course!" However, all that came from the boys was:

"The what?"

"Oh, honestly, don't you two read?" she exchanged an exasperated look with Holly. "Look – read that, there."

She pushed the book toward them and the other three read:

_ The Ancient Study of alchemy is concerned with the making of the Sorcerer's Stone, a legendary substance of astonishing powers. The stone will transform any metal into pure gold. It also products the Elixir of Life, which will make the drinker immortal._

_ There have been many reports of the Sorcerer's Stone over the centuries, but the only stone currently in existence belongs to Mr. Nicolas Flamel, the noted alchemist and opera lover. Mr. Flamel, who celebrated his six hundred and sixty-fifth birthday last year, enjoys a quiet life in Devon with his wife, Perenelle (six hundred and fifty-eight)._

"See?" said Hermione, when they had finished. "The dog must be guarding Flamel's Sorcerer's Stone! I bet he asked Dumbledore to keep it safe for him, because they're friends and he knew someone was after it, that's why he wanted the Stone moved out of Gringotts!"

"A stone that makes gold and stops you from ever dying!" said Harry. "No wonder Snape's after it! _Anyone_ would want it!"

"And no wonder we couldn't find Flamel in that _Study of Recent Developments in Wizardry_," said Ron. "He's not exactly recent if he's six hundred and sixty-five, is he?"

"Well," Holly remarked, "at least we now know what the object is."

The next morning in Defense Against the Dark Arts, while copying down different ways of treating werewolf bites, Harry and Ron were still discussing what they'd do with a Sorcerer's Stone if they had one. It wasn't until Ron said he'd buy his own Quidditch team that Harry remembered about Snape and the coming match.

"I'm going to play," he told the other three. "If I don't, all the Slytherins will think I'm just too scared to face Snape. I'll show them … it'll really wipe the smiles off their faces if we win.

"Just as long as we're not wiping you off the field," said Hermione.

As the match drew nearer and nearer, Potions became a nightmare for Harry. Holly watched, wincing inwardly, as Snape picked on Harry more and more fiercely. Holly knew Snape was probably just worried, but his actions were just firming her friend's opinions of him.

On the day of the match, they wished Harry luck, the other two obviously wondering if they'd see him alive again. Holly trusted Snape, but she was also worried: both for Harry and for Snape. They all found a place in the stands next to Neville, who couldn't understand why they looked so grim and worried, or why they had brought their wands to the match.

Actually, the three of them had been practicing the Leg-Locker Curse in case they needed to use it.

Holly glanced around the stands. Snape was standing on the field, looking sour. The kids were talking to each other. Suddenly, a flash of silver caught her and, sighing in relief, she spotted Dumbledore, gazing serenely out onto the field.

As the teams marched onto the field, Ron spoke up.

"I've never seen Snape look so mean," he told Hermione and Holly. "Look – they're off. Ouch!"

Someone had poked Ron in the back of the head. It was Malfoy.

"Oh, sorry, Weasley, didn't see you there. Malfoy grinned broadly at Crabbe and Goyle, who had accompanied him.

"Wonder how long Potter's going to stay on his broom this time? Anyone want a bet? What about you, Weasley?"

Ron didn't answer. Snape had just awarded Hufflepuff a penalty because George Weasley had hit a Bludger at him. Hermione, who had all her fingers crossed in her lap, was squinting fixedly at Harry, who was circling the game like a hawk, looking for the Snitch. Holly was essentially doing the same, occasionally glancing at Snape.

"You know how I think they choose people for the Gryffindor team?" said Malfoy a few minutes later, as Snape awarded Hufflepuff another penalty for no reason at all. "It's people they feel sorry for. See, there's Potter, who's got no parents, then there's the Weasleys, who've got no money – you should be on the team, Longbottom, you've got no brains."

Neville went bright red but turned in his seat to face Malfoy.

"I'm worth twelve of you, Malfoy," he stammered, as Holly gave him an encouraging smile and nod.

Malfoy, Crabbe, and Goyle howled with laughter, but Ron, still not daring to take his eyes from the game, said, "You tell him, Neville."

"Longbottom, if brains were gold you'd be poorer than Weasley, and that's saying something."

Ron's nerves were already stretched to the breaking point with anxiety about Harry.

"I'm warning you, Malfoy – one more word –"

"Ron!" said Hermione suddenly, "Harry –!"

"What? Where?"

"Look!" Holly said, pointing.

Harry had suddenly gone into a spectacular dive, which drew gasps and cheers from the crowd. Hermione stood up, her crossed fingers in her mouth, as Harry streaked toward the ground like a bullet.

"You're in luck, Weasley, Potter's obviously spotted some money on the ground!" said Malfoy.

Ron snapped. Before Malfoy knew what was happening, Ron was on top of him, wrestling him to the ground. Neville hesitated, then clambered over the back of his seat to help. Holly made sure to step out of the way, her eyes fixed on Harry.

"Come on, Harry!" Hermione screamed, leaping onto her seat to watch as Harry sped straight at Snape – she didn't even notice Malfoy and Ron rolling around under her seat, or the scuffles and yelps coming from the whirl of fists that was Neville, Crabbe, and Goyle.

Up in the air, Snape turned on his broomstick just in time to see something scarlet shoot past him, missing him by inches – the next second, Harry had pulled out of the dive, his arm raised in triumph, the Snitch clasped in his hand.

The stands erupted; it had to be a record, no one could ever remember the Snitch being caught so quickly.

"Ron! Ron! Where are you? The game's over! Harry's won! We've won! Gryffindor is in the lead!" shrieked Hermione, dancing up and down on her seat and hugging Parvati Patil in the row in front. Holly simply grinned, happy that Gryffindor had won and relieved that Harry was safe.

As the teams landed, all the Gryffindors spilled onto the field. As Holly come onto the pitch, she saw Harry, his broom in one hand. Dumbledore was standing behind Harry, his hand on Harry's shoulder, and was speaking to him quietly. Snape, who had landed nearby, spat bitterly on the ground.

They left Harry to change and headed up to Gryffindor Tower to celebrate. Ron and Hermione threw themselves happily into the festivities. Holly joined in as well, but as time went on, she got more nervous about what was keeping Harry.

Harry finally entered the corridor to Gryffindor Common Room. Holly, who was standing with Ron and Hermione waiting, waved to him.

"Harry!"

Harry came over to them.

"Harry, where have you _been_?" Hermione squeaked.

"We won! You won! We won!" shouted Ron, thumping Harry on the back. "And I gave Malfoy a black eye, and Neville tried to take on Crabbe and Goyle single-handed! He's still out cold, but Madam Pomfrey says he'll be all right – talk about showing Slytherin! Everyone's waiting for you in the common room, we're having a party, Fred and George stole some cakes and stuff from the kitchens."

"Never mind that now," said Harry breathlessly. "Let's find an empty room, you wait 'til you hear this …."

He made sure Peeves wasn't inside before shutting the door behind them, then he told them what he'd seen and heard. Snape had talked with Quirrell privately in the Forbidden Forest. Harry continued.

"So we were right, it _is_ the Sorcerer's Stone, and Snape's trying to force Quirrell to help him get it. He asked if he knew how to get past Fluffy – and he said something about Quirrell's 'hocus pocus' – I reckon there are other things guarding the stone apart from Fluffy, loads of enchantments, probably, and Quirrell would have done some anti-Dark Arts spell that Snape needs to break through –"

"So you mean the Stone's only safe as long as Quirrell stands up to Snape?" said Hermione in alarm.

"It'll be gone by next Tuesday," said Ron.


	19. Explanations by Hana

**Hana:** Hi, everyone! I'm really sorry I haven't uploaded in a while. I have computer problems. Also, I'm going off to a school where I have no Internet connection, so I can't update for around a year. I PROMISE though, that I am NOT abandoning this fic! Bear with me!


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